


The Tale of Prince Roman

by sassyandsodone



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Attempted Murder, Cheating, Courtly intrigue, Except maybe Logan, Falling In Love, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I worldbuilt a religion for this, If you're looking for a good time look elsewhere, It doesn't start sad, Knight Remus, Knight Roman, Logan is honestly barely relevant, Love Triangles, M/M, Mentions of Death, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Character Death, Morally Grey Characters, Noble Virgil, Prince Janus, Prince Patton, Regular Old Murder, Trans Virgil, Unrequited Love, Violence, Yes it's a self-indulgent Prinxiety/Anxceit love triangle, a lot of characters making terrible decisions, a lot of mentions of death, but GOD does it get sad, but that's cause he doesn't do much, everyone is morally grey, long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:40:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24359707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassyandsodone/pseuds/sassyandsodone
Summary: Roman has spent the last four years of his life as his best friend, Prince Patton's guard. But when a mysterious hooded man arrives at the castle, everything changes for him. A wave is coming and people are getting swept away in the tide.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, One Sided Demus
Comments: 29
Kudos: 51





	1. Roman Get's Punched

**Author's Note:**

> I plan to update every two weeks or so. No promises though. The only thing I promise is I will update more frequently than Sanders Sides does.

**5/10/29 The Fifth Day of the Tenth Month of the Twenty-Ninth Year of the Reign of King Thomas**

It was the kind of unseasonably warm day that kicked up the scents of the marketplace, both pleasant and not. He passed by market stalls, breathing in the air of animals being bought and sold, baked goods’ aromas danced on the edge of his senses, with a mix of spices and herbs as they traded hands through the center of the city. People’s voices all blended into the voice of a single crowd, unable to pick out individual conversations. Cart’s wheels battered against the cobblestone street, all while children played Knights and Bandits darting in and out of the road.

He felt the sweat dripping off his body. It was not a great day for a walk, but since he had the time to appreciate the city at his own pace, he had to take advantage of it. He could have done anything, anything within an hour or so, that is.

“-prices are unacceptable!” an abrasive voice jutted out of the crowd. He turned his head to a market stall and witnessed an older woman screaming at a boy in perhaps his early teenage years who was manning the stall.

With a smile on his face, he diverted his course to the stand. He walked right up to the wares on display, pretending to ignore the woman for a moment and, instead, taking stock of the various pieces of jewelry and little charms for sale.

“I can’t charge any less, ma’am,” the young boy said.

Picking up a cloak pin, he examined it. It was nicely made, well constructed and durable; it wasn’t the crown jewels, but it was pretty. He looked at the boy. “How much for this?”

“Two crown royals?”

He smiled and examined the pin closer. “You are undercharging my friend. The craftsmanship is incredible. Only someone with no eye for jewelry would be unable to see it.”

“Excuse me?!” the woman said. She looked at him with a venomous glare. He turned to her, unfazed, and rested his hands on the sword hanging his left hip. Her eyes seemed to look at it then back up at him. With a harumph, she left.

The boy’s face lit up. “Thank you. Are you a knight?”

He smiled. “I suppose I’m not hiding it. Yes, I’m Sir Roman.”

The boy’s jaw dropped and Roman couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sir Roman? You serve the prince…”

There was an amount of awe in the young man’s voice as if he was speaking to a character out of a fairytale. Which he might as well have been. Sir Roman had a reputation in the kingdom for being the last of the classical knights, himself almost a relic of a better time when knights were devoted to chivalry and doing all the good they could. Sir Roman was the type to get into an honorable duel to win the hand of a fair noble, and he had made a habit of defending the powerless.

Roman handed over more than enough coins as he picked up the cloak pin again. “I do serve the prince. And this seems like something he’ll like.”

The boy was frozen. So frozen he didn’t realize he was overpaid.

“Have a good day,” Roman said and wandered away from the stall.

He had a bit of a spring in his step from his good deed, and a deep smile on his face as he took a better look at the pin. It was decently simple but well made and pretty. There was no way his prince wouldn’t like it. And on the subject of the prince, it was about time he went back to the palace and went back to protecting the prince. Not that he usually had much to do, mainly he was a friend who stood next to him all day and gossiped with him away from prying eyes.

Roman moved at a brisk pace through the city as he approached the palace, his latest home. It was a towering structure, that, like Roman, didn’t really belong in the town the capital had become. It, too, was a relic of an older time. Still, they didn’t make buildings quite that beautiful anymore. Cream-colored towers soared into the sky with carved stone depicting scenes from legends, everything made by many master masons. The palace itself was a piece of art. However, it had a terrible tendency to get very cold in the winter; art wasn’t known for retaining heat well unless it was on fire, which coincidentally, the palace had been one or two times but thankfully none in Roman’s lifetime.

He came up to the gates. There stood two guards with testy looks on both their faces. And stood between them was a figure, shrouded completely by a black cloak.

Roman was sweating in his lightest clothes so he could imagine how that poor person was feeling. He moved in closer and got a better look at the scene, noticing the cloak was not solid black but embellished with deep violet swirling designs that possessed a metallic shine in the light.

The guards’ expressions darkened as Roman came up to them.

“What’s going on here?” Roman asked.

He was met with a sigh. “Nothing that concerns you.”

How rude. Granted, it was to be expected. Roman was not well-liked among the guard, as he had been one for about a week. This was his usual reception so he elected to ignore it and instead turned his attention to the figure in the cloak.

Up close he could see this person was a man, decently short with black hair that fell into his face. Roman couldn’t see his eyes. The man was wearing all black, and it didn’t appear to be a light fabric. He must have been dying.

“Excuse me.” Roman put a hand on the stranger’s shoulder. The man recoiled under his touch and moved away. “Can I help you?”

The man’s arms closed over his chest. He didn’t even look up.

“I need. To talk. To the prince.” His voice was clear, elegant, and yet very desperate.

Roman nodded. “I see.”

One of the guards reached forward. “Hey, stay out of this. This guy refuses to say why he needs to see the prince, so we’re not letting him in. He could be anyone.”

“He is someone in need,” Roman rebutted. A phrase the city guards knew to fear when it came from Sir Roman. Once he had resolved to help someone there was no way to stop him.

The guards groaned and it only made Roman smile.

“You’ve done your duty,” he said. “I’ll take responsibility if this goes wrong.”

“Fine,” the guard replied, and the pair of them cleared the way for Roman and his new friend to head inside.

“Thank-” the man looked up at Roman. His mouth stayed open but he never finished the phrase, just staring for a moment, before turning his gaze and pulling his hood further down over his face.

“You’re welcome.” Roman reached an arm out. “Come on. I’ll take you to see the prince.”

“Don’t touch me!” the man snapped. Roman pulled his arm in as if he was about to get bitten.

Okay. Not as grateful as he had expected the guy to be. Still, he probably was having a bad day. He would be grateful once he got to see the prince. At least, that was how Roman chose to rationalize it as they walked into the palace in silence. In fact, Roman was sure he’d get an apology later and until then he would be his usual courteous self.

They came into the entry hall.

“Right, well,” Roman said, “now we have to find the prince.”

“What are you doing here?”

Roman looked around. There was no one else his guest could have been talking to but he couldn’t have been talking to him. That couldn’t have been right.

“I...what?”

The stranger gave him a venomous side-eye. “Shut up. You bastard.”

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

“You heard me.”

Roman’s fist clenched as he kept a forced smile on his face. This was not how people treated him when he was nice to them, and he had to keep his eyes on his goal or he was going to lose it.

“Well, let’s go this way, shall we?” He pointed down a hallway. There was a parlor down that way that was often used for receiving visitors, and it was far usually pretty well guarded, should something go wrong.

“Like I’m going anywhere alone with you!”

The stranger turned away and started to move for the direction of the royal wing. No outsiders were allowed in that area. Roman may have made a mistake bringing this man inside.

He grabbed the stranger’s wrist, halting him in his tracks.

“Let go of me!” The stranger struggled against Roman’s grip.

“No, you’re not getting away!”

The stranger’s pulse got very fast.

He turned and his free hand collided with Roman’s face. A ring scratched his cheek and drew blood as Roman let go of the man and his hands caressed the stinging wound. The pain lessened to a throbbing all too familiar to the knight.

“What the-”

“Roman?” a familiar voice called. They both looked up at the person before them. Stood there in fine clothes of soft blue with white embroidery tracing floral patterns through his entire body, with a silver crown on his head, and with his mouth agape, was the prince.

“Roman?” the stranger echoed, and his eyes widened. “Fuck.”

Fighting past the shock, Roman grabbed the stranger, with both hands this time. He made no attempt to escape.

“Wait…” the prince said. He stepped closer, a gentle curiosity about him. “Is th-”

“Patton,” the stranger said. He shook his hood off and elbowed Roman, fruitlessly.

Prince Patton gasped, a hand covering his mouth. His eyes widened and he dropped the hand. “Virgil?”

Roman tilted his head with brief glances being shot between the prince and the man he was manhandling at the current moment. Did he and Patton know each other? Roman was still holding him in place as a drop of blood fell onto the edge of his mouth and he accidentally tasted metal.

Virgil gave a small sigh. “Hi, Patton. I need a favor.”

* * *

“Stop squirming.”

“Well, that is a lot easier said than done,” Roman said. He reflectively backed away from the cloth that was being pushed at his cut.

Logan lowered his gaze into a stern glare behind his glasses. He didn’t need to say anything. The message was received and understood.

Roman sighed, as it was impossible to win any sort of argument that Logan refused to even explain the logic behind, for that could only mean that he was being treated like a child. Resigned to his fate, Roman relaxed into his chair and Logan brought the cloth back to the wound.

They were sitting in Roman’s room; it was one of the smallest rooms in the royal wing but it was almost directly next to Patton’s. Besides, even the smallest room in the palace was a far cry from most of the places Roman had slept in. It was decorated very nicely considering his lack of noble blood, a large bed with that he never made, a writing desk for all the writing he didn’t do, a table and chair set that was full of nicks from his poor treatment of them, a foreign rug in his favorite color that had been a birthday gift from Patton, a vanity, a washbasin which had been temporarily relocated to the table. The room was bathed in the warm glow of the sunlight streaming in from the window.

“Ow,” Roman winced. The throbbing of his wound had lessened but instead, he was left to contend with a strong burning sensation coming from the cloth. “I thought you were using water.”

“Alcohol,” Logan corrected.

“It burns.”

“It is alcohol. You have had dozens of wounds treated in the past, were you not expecting me to disinfect it?”

Roman slumped. “If I wanted sound medical advice, I would have gone to the physician, not the historian,” he grumbled.

“I don’t know why you didn’t go to the physician.”

“I didn’t want to bother him.”

Logan pulled the cloth away and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t believe you.”

Roman huffed. “You go to him and you’re there for hours because he never stops talking. I wanted to be back before then.”

Logan nodded, unable to find any fault in the logic of that statement, as he, too, had been to the physician for something small and had lost much of his valuable work time. “You still have yet to explain to me how you acquired this injury.”

Roman sat up and stopped pouting as if he had been itching to be asked before he unloaded the story. “I got punched-”

“That is hardly the first time.”

He shot Logan a glare for half a second. “I got punched by some guy who I was helping. He was being harassed by the guards and I-”

“Did you antagonize the palace guards again?”

“Logan, I don’t interrupt you when you’re talking. So-”

“Falsehood,” Logan said and Roman groaned. “You interrupt me on a very regular basis.”

“Do you wanna know how I got punched or not?”

Logan, begrudgingly, shut up.

“Thank you. So, the guards were harassing this guy. I saw him and thought ‘hey, he looks like he needs help, his clothes are super heavy, he must be really hot, he’s probably having a really rough day.’ And so, like the hero I am-”

Logan made a noise but he didn’t interrupt.

“-I went over to this guy and got them to leave him alone. He said he needed to talk to Patton so I said I’d take him to see him. Well, as soon as the guards leave him alone he gets all snippy with me. And once we get inside he tries to run away from me. So, in an attempt to do my job and keep Patton safe from this strange man, I grab him. And then he punches me!”

Logan nodded. “I see. So that’s why you are so cross about Patton meeting with this person privately.”

Roman crossed his arms and slunk down. He began grumbling in not-quite-words.

Logan leaned back in his chair. “So, who is this person?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you have any hints? What did he say?”

“I don’t know. He just asked Patton for a favor.”

“How did he refer to him?”

Roman sat up a bit. “Patton?”

“He referred to him by his name?”

“Yes.”

Logan leaned an elbow on the table and rested his head on his hand. “That’s highly unusual, Roman. Very few people are either comfortable enough or bold enough to refer to the crown prince by his given name. Interesting.”

“Okay but that doesn’t tell us who he is.” Roman’s hand went up to his cut absentmindedly.

“Did you get any more information?”

“Yeah. Patton called him ‘Virgil.’”

Logan abruptly dropped his pose as his mouth opened and eyes widened. He blinked a few times at Roman in disbelief. “Two things. One: you knew his name and you didn’t lead with that?”

Roman sat up straight, eager to defend himself. “I don’t know anyone named Virgil.”

Logan’s hands slammed the table and he gave a deep, frustrated sigh. “Three things. You mean to tell me, you don’t know who Virgil is?”

“Should I?”

“How long have you worked in politics?”

“I don’t work in politics!”

“How long have you worked in the palace?” Logan asked, his frustration growing with each stupid answer.

Roman rolled his eyes. “Four years.”

“That is more than long enough to know who Lord Virgil is.”

Roman’s eyes widened and he leaned in. “He’s a lord?!” He leaned back and muttered, “I shouldn’t have manhandled him.” Then he sat back up. “Wait! If he’s a lord why don’t I know him? I thought I’d met all the lords. What house is he?”

“Stormbound.”

“That’s a house? I’ve never seen anyone from that house.”

Logan sighed. “Precisely, you ignoramus, Lord Virgil is the only member of the house. When he was nine, the entire family was massacred and he was the sole survivor. He was then sent to the palace to live as a ward of King Thomas. Lord Virgil was raised alongside the princes and was practically considered a third child.” Logan turned his gaze away. “He hasn’t been here in six years and six months.”

The wheels in Roman’s brain were turning, slowly, of course, but they were getting there. Logan’s speech did explain why Patton knew Virgil and Virgil knew Patton. It also explained why he had felt entitled to talk to Patton with no explanation as to why. It did not explain why he was there in the first place, however.

“Hang on,” Roman said. “Why did he leave?”

Logan glared at him. It wasn’t a burning angry glare, instead the look of a man who had scolded a cat that just wouldn’t listen. “Roman. If you do indeed possess a brain, which is presently a hotly contested debate between Patton and myself, please, use it now. What event occurred in the palace six years ago, that could have possibly led Lord Virgil to leave it?”

Roman leaned back in his chair. He was more than used to being insulted by Patton’s other best friend and he might have minded it more if he and Logan didn’t constantly bicker to show their friendship for each other. He rocked back further, tossing his head back. Roman wasn’t well versed in politics and deliberately avoided it where he could. Politics could get messy and Roman was trying his hardest to just do good. Still, there had to be an event that he knew about that Logan was referencing. Six years ago…

Roman went stiff as he remembered. Unfortunately, he lost his balance and the chair and Roman hit the ground with a thud.

“Ow.”

Logan sighed. “We are going to need more alcohol.”

“I’m gonna drink it,” Roman’s voice said as he stayed on the floor. With a heavy sigh, he picked himself up, now feeling a throbbing pain in multiple places.

“The prince,” he said as he picked the chair up. “The older prince. He got banished six years ago. Am I right?”

Logan leaned in to get a look at Roman’s body for any new marks, grabbing him abruptly. “For once, yes. Lord Virgil left with the eldest prince.”

Roman held out his arm for Logan to inspect. “Why didn’t he just stay with Patton and the king?”

Roman had never met the eldest prince, so all he really had to go by was reputation, and oh did the eldest prince have a reputation. He wasn’t regarded as a particularly “nice” person at least not when compared to Patton. Sure some of that had to come from the fact that the eldest prince was magical, something people were, at the very least, wary of, and it could color their impressions of him. Roman was not immune to that; he had seen the portraits of the prince around the palace and he had seen the boy’s snake eye, and it was disconcerting. It was rumored that the snake eye never closed. Something about him just sent a chill down Roman’s spine. Then, of course, there was the mere fact of his banishment implying a need for him to be banished. Roman didn’t know what the eldest prince had done but if the loving, forgiving King Thomas had seen it fit to send his own son away, it had to be pretty bad. And there were other rumors about him, none of which painted a particularly flattering picture. He was known as the Serpent of the North, and it was said he was building his own kingdom, one with the power to topple his father’s. All things that were not good.

“I mean,” Roman continued, “if I was given the choice between Snake-Eyes and Patton, I know which one I’d go with.”

Logan sighed. “And once again, you prove you have no idea what you are talking about.”

A small jingling noise turned both men’s heads and they both watched the door open slowly. Patton stood there, leaning against his cane with a smile on his face.

“Oh, good, you’re both here.”

“Yup,” Roman said, “the stuffy scholar and I have been talking.”

Logan rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“Is your face okay?”

Roman smiled. “Nothing to worry about my prized princey. What did you want?”

Patton came over to the table and both men stood up out of their chairs. “Both of you, sit down.”

Begrudgingly, they both did. Patton leaned his cane against the table and took his seat on Logan’s lap. They really should have known at this point, it was his favorite chair. He wrapped his arms around Logan’s neck to stabilize himself as a slight redness came to Logan’s face.

“Am I too much?” he asked. Logan shook his head ferociously. Patton giggled and turned back to Roman. “Right, I came here to let you both know that Virgil’s going to be staying with us for a while-”

Well, Roman was screwed.

“-at least until Dad gets back.”

The King was abroad for at least two more months, away on business, and had left Patton to basically run things for a little while, a fact everyone in the room preferred not to think about. Patton was a good man but was way out of his depth.

Patton looked to Logan. “So, while Virgil’s here, please treat him like family.”

“Roman seems to have gotten a headstart on that.”

Patton’s eyes widened and he turned to Roman, who, for his part, was doing his best to hide the fact that every muscle in his body was tense. “Oh Roman, treat him like my family.”

“I got it.”

“I know you do.” Patton extended a hand and gave Roman his sweetest puppy-dog eyes with a gentle smile. Roman took the hand hesitantly. His mind was elsewhere running through the possibility of having to apologize to the nobleman who had punched him. Not that he hadn’t swallowed his pride for nobles in the past but it was a distinctly unpleasant thing that he was going to avoid if he could come up with a way to. Trouble is, he was having a very difficult time coming up with an alternative.

“Virgil will be staying in his old room. We’re gonna try and catch up. It’s been so many years since I last saw him.”

Patton stood up and Logan was finally able to function again. He pretended to be unflappable but really he was a disaster when it came to being shown affection, which was something Patton did almost constantly. Roman could only subtly roll his eyes at his friends’ sickeningly sweet relationship. He had been dealing with it for the better part of four years and besides, he had more important things on his mind. Like what he was going to say the next time he accidentally bumped into Lord Virgil. Leading with “remember me?” might’ve sounded threatening but damn, did he want to say it.

“Logan, Roman.”

Roman broke out of his daze and looked up at Patton.

Patton’s smile was gone and he lowered his eyebrows into a frown. “Please don’t talk about my brother while Virgil is here.”

He waited and Roman knew this was his cue to answer.

“For you, Patton, of course.” Roman smiled. In the three years he had known Patton, his older brother had come up less than ten times. The oldest prince was simply a topic that was never really approached in the palace. King Thomas didn’t talk about him, and Patton didn’t talk about him. But they both, on occasion, were known to glance up at one of the portraits of the other prince with a certain sadness about them. Roman had noticed it many times but had never asked. Why should he? He understood the desire not to talk about a family member. However, Patton’s sudden ban on the topic only made him want to ask more questions. And his eyes darted to Logan who was giving him the same look of curiosity.

Roman leaned back in his chair. If there was one thing he could count on, it was Logan’s “scientific curiosity” ie him being a gossipy bitch who always wanted to know everything that was going on.

“Okay,” Patton said. “I’m gonna head out.”

“I will go with you.” Logan stood up.

Roman leaned forward on the table as the two headed to the door. “Wanna get drinks tonight, Logan?”

“Yes,” he said, “I would like to finish explaining to you what we were previously discussing.”

That meant they were gonna talk about the eldest prince. Roman couldn’t help but almost laugh. Right after Patton had told them not to.

“Do you want to join us, Patton?” he asked, hoping to get a no.

“No, thank you.”

Score.

“I think I’ll spend tonight helping Virgil get settled.”

Oh, bless Patton’s boundless compassion. It made it so easy for the two of them to gossip behind his back. They would, of course, never say anything bad about him but he didn’t like it when they said anything bad about anyone. That, however, had never stopped them.

“Alright,” Roman said, “I won’t be far and I will not be gone for more than two hours.”

Patton stopped and gave his friend a smile. “You don’t need to worry, Roman. I’ll be fine and besides, I won’t be alone.”

True, but he would be with someone Roman knew almost nothing about. Not the sort of thing that inspired confidence. Still, they couldn’t exactly gossip about Patton’s brother in front of him so it couldn’t be helped.

The door shut behind his friends and Roman leaned back in his chair. With any luck, he wouldn’t be running into Lord Virgil any time soon.


	2. Much Ado About Virgil

**5/10/29 The Fifth Day of the Tenth Month of the Twenty-Ninth Year of the Reign of King Thomas**

There were two different taverns the boys could have gone to. One was smack dab in the middle of the city, always busy, loud, full of people dancing, drinking, and fighting. It was, unsurprisingly, Roman’s favorite, a place in which he was a celebrity. The other tavern was barely outside of the palace grounds, the only people that frequented it worked in the palace so it was quieter, more intimate. It was also an alternate dimension where the status of one’s birth hardly mattered, palace maids drank alongside kings, knights and nobles mingled with no shame, all sharing a pint or two. Roman had once witnessed a groundskeeper arm-wrestling the royal advisor, and to the surprise of no one, except the very drunk royal advisor, the groundskeeper won. It was Patton’s preferred tavern for the reason that it was the only one he could really go to and when Roman and Logan and Patton all drank together it was the obvious choice. However, since Patton wasn’t going to be joining them, they had options and _could_ have gone into town. They didn’t go into town. Being a celebrity was not conducive to gossiping.

Roman took a table that was about as far from the bar and the door he could possibly be, less of a chance of getting overheard there, and he waited. It was a quieter night, some off duty guards were playing cards at a table by the bar and occasionally shooting Roman dirty looks, he recognized a maid at the bar flirting with the bartender, and there were a few other people who either didn’t work in the palace or he didn’t know what they did. The warm air had faded away when the sun did and it was a perfectly normal autumn evening. Outside, the crickets chirped, they only had a few more weeks of that, as they battled a lute player for musical dominance. Roman leaned his feet up on the empty chair across from him. Logan was sure taking his sweet time getting there. He had been through one drink already and was waiting to get a second one lest he be long gone by the time Logan showed up.

At about the moment he considered screwing it and getting smashed, Logan walked through the door. Roman tilted his head to get a better view of his friend and noticed a decently full bag at his side. Logan came up to the table and dropped the bag into the table where it landed with a thud.

“You’re late,” Roman commented. “What’s the bag for?”

Logan pulled out his chair, removing Roman’s feet. “This satchel contains the precise reason for my slight tardiness.”

Roman leaned an elbow on the table. “A normal person would say ‘this is why I’m late.’”

“They probably would.” He opened the bag and pulled out large book after large book, he probably had thousands of handwritten pages in that bag.

“Light reading?”

“For you.”

Roman’s eyebrows lowered and his eyes wandered up. Was he drunk or did that not make sense?

“What?”

Logan sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Our discussion earlier today made it apparent to me that you are not well versed in politics or political history, even recent political history, so I compiled some texts to make up for your knowledge deficit.”

“...You’re giving me homework?”

“Yes,” Logan said with disdain as if he couldn’t believe he was even being asked that question.

Roman looked at the pile, then up at Logan, then back to the pile, then back to Logan. He put his head down on the table and the pile dwarfed him. How exactly was he supposed to read that? Roman had read maybe a dozen small books in his life, he loved stories and relished learning new ones but he hated sitting down with a book and reading. Oral tradition was his preferred way of learning. He picked himself up and gave his friend a dirty look.

“Logan, I can’t read this. I can barely _read_.”

Logan sighed. “Well, you can’t continue to operate with no political background.”

“I don’t need politics, I’m a meat-shield.”

“Or meathead,” Logan muttered. “You cannot continue to go on not knowing who Lord Virgil is.”

“Well, I’ve met him now. I know who he is.” Roman pointed at the scratch on his face.

Logan sighed. A barmaid came over and took his drink order. Roman added his own order as well. They were quiet until she was out of earshot, then Logan leaned forward.

“You have met him yet you do not know why he joined the eldest prince in his banishment. This is information any common pig breeder would know!”

“Hey!”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Lord Virgil-”

Their drinks arrived and both men sat straight up and drew suddenly quiet in a way that was completely non-suspicious. The barmaid gave them a bit of a confused look. She lingered for a moment before heading on her way.

“Thank you!” Roman called, remembering his manners. Then, he took a sip of his wine.

“As I was saying, Lord Virgil,” Logan leaned in and lowered his voice, “is Prince Janus’s fiance.”

Roman choked on his drink. Coughing, he looked at Logan with wide eyes. “What?”

“I believe you heard me. Is there a reason for your outburst? There is nothing about this information that is worth choking over.”

“You’re not the one who manhandled the Serpent of North’s fiance.” Roman’s eyes were wide and out of focus as the possibility of the Snake Prince taking his revenge on him ran through his mind.

A few people at a nearby table glanced over at them. Logan noticed. Roman didn’t.

“Roman, please keep your volume at a minimum when mentioning the eldest prince. Lest I remind you, Patton does not want us to discuss him.”

Roman was not paying attention, his mind still consumed by his unfortunately vivid imagination. What could the eldest prince do to him? Behead him? Maybe. Send assassins? He had heard the North was full of them. If the eldest prince wanted revenge he could probably do anything.

Logan hit his hand down on the table and snapped Roman back to reality.

“Are you listening?”

“What?”

Logan sighed and leaned back in his chair. He took a sip of his drink, a decently large one. “You are incorrigible.”

“Hey, I resent that.”

Logan gave him a side-eye. “Do you know what it means?”

“Not a clue!” Roman declared. “But I do know that when you say it like that it’s an insult, you heartless historian.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “It is unimportant. What is-”

“I am _very_ important!” Roman harrumphed.

Logan scrunched up his face in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“You called me unimportant!”

“I did not!”

“You just said that word means unimportant!”

“I did not! Incorrigible means inflexible. And what I was getting at-”

“Well, I resent that too. And you should talk, you can’t even touch your toes!”

Logan stood up out of his chair, that blood vessel on his neck popping. He slammed his hands on the table after each word he spoke. “Incorrigible. Means. Not. Able. To. Be. Corrected. And you have proven my point!”

One of the books fell off the table.

Roman’s smile was a mix between taken aback and dopey. His eyes scanned the room as everyone in the pub stared.

“Logan, keep your voice down.”

Logan fell back into his chair, snatched his cup, and drank most of it in one gulp. He sighed a sigh that was not enough to release the pent up frustration. “As I have been _attempting_ to say, what has me curious about this situation is why is Lord Virgil here?”

If Roman had said he remembered what they had been talking about, he would have been lying. Granted, he knew if he told Logan he was lost, the book would no longer be on the floor, it would be on his head. His head had endured enough injury this day so he decided to try and follow along.

“By ‘here’ you mean with Patton, right? Lord Virgil isn’t in this pub, right?” His eyes scanned the room.

“Yes, Roma-”

“Sir Roman, Logan, do you how do?”

Both of them sat up straight and stared at each other with wide eyes as the palace doctor pulled up a chair at the table.

Logan deflated and turned his body towards the bar with a hand in the air. “Excuse me, Miss, I would like another drink.”

Roman put on a semi-forced smile and turned to their guest. “Dr. Picani, a pleasure to see you as always.”

“Well you too, brave sir,” Picani said, “so, what’s the word around the watering hole?”

“Nothing,” Logan said, quickly. He was eager to shut down this conversation before they got trapped.

“Yeah, nothing really. Nothing new today. Just a boring day.”

Roman had a better relationship with Picani than Logan did. The man was eccentric but he had a love of fairy tales and stories of brave knights, something he and Roman had in common. On days he had been injured Roman would sometimes swap stories of favorite heroes with the good doctor. Picani tended to dominate conversations and had a tendency to repeat things he heard. There was no faster way to spread news than to give it Picani.

Picani nodded. “Oh, I heard Lord Virgil’s name get mentioned-”

Logan glared at Roman, despite the fact that he could have heard that from either of them.

“-it’s been a while since he heard his name around here. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Logan said.

Picani turned to Roman. Roman smiled and shrugged his shoulders. If Logan really didn't want this conversation to go on Roman certainly wasn’t going to draw it out.

Picani nodded “Surprised to see it’s just you two. Is the Prince well?”

“Oh of course,” Roman said, “he’s wonderful. Oh! That reminds me, I bought him a cloak pin. I guess I’ll give that to him when he’s done with his meeting.”

How could he have forgotten? Honestly. He felt a little stupid.

“Who’s he meeting with?” Dr. Picani asked.

“Lord Virgil,” Roman replied casually. Logan slammed his hand on the table. Roman looked over at his friend only to see a burning glare. And it occurred to him in that moment that Logan might have been trying to keep that a secret. “Actually, I think I’m gonna go give it to him now. G’night!”

Roman bolted out of his chair. And he got caught by Logan clutching his arm. Bracing himself as if he was going to get hit, Roman looked at Logan. The words bitch-face would be too charitable to describe the face Logan was making. It was a glare commonly associated with sentencing a man to die.

“Oh, when did Lord Virgil arrive?” Picani asked.

Roman tugged a bit at Logan’s grip but Logan didn’t budge. Roman twisted his arm free and scurried out of the pub as quickly as he could, abandoning his friend to the mercy of a curious Picani.

Out in the chilly air, the sounds of the tavern muffled through the door, Roman took in a deep breath. He was going to owe Logan big time for this one. Looked like he was going to end up reading those books and probably doing something else for Logan too.

Roman decided to get moving in case Logan was in hot pursuit.

  
  


He didn’t know which room was Virgil’s but Roman had a guess. There were two rooms in the royal wing that were never touched. They were dusted, maintained, but no one ever really went in. No guests ever stayed in either room. One room was directly next to Patton’s, the other at the end of the hall. He could only guess which one belonged to Patton’s brother.

Roman footsteps echoed against the stone floors in the hallway. He passed the empty room next to Patton’s and gave a passing glance to the door. He found it hard to imagine the prince he’d seen in the portraits living in that room. There was something so intangible about him, so distant. Most of the time, everyone just pretended he didn’t exist. He was only spoken about in passing comments, like the royal tutor mentioning how he was an excellent student, or he was mentioned as a distant whisper when servants who had never met him spoke about the Serpent of the North and his latest execution of a lord. Patton’s brother didn’t exist to Roman, he was a story, not a person. But, as Roman approached the bedroom of that brother’s fiance, Prince Janus seemed so much more tangible.

What had he been like? How was he treated around the palace? How had he interacted with Patton?

Roman could hear whispered conversations from inside the room at the end of the hall. He stopped in his tracks. Maybe he could give that pin to Patton some other time.

* * *

**6/10/29 The Sixth Day of the Tenth Month of the Twenty-Ninth Year of the Reign of King Thomas**

The blinding light that reflected off the blanket of pure white snow that covered every inch of the ground illuminated the Winter Citadel with the brightness of a thousand suns. Everywhere, there were the sounds of ice melting and snow falling off of its precarious perches on the roofs as the unseasonably warm day tried to break the permafrost. He stood on his balcony, leaning against the railing and he overlooked his domain. His eyes scanning the town below him for anything, anything out of place, anything to take his mind off the droning behind him. His gloved fingers drummed the railing, rapidly losing patience.

“I guess that ‘back in a day or two’ thing is long dead now. Two weeks with no signs of him,” an abrasive voice said from inside his bedroom. 

His hand clenched into a fist. Why did he even let Remus into his room? What could that man possibly offer him at a time like this? He wasn’t helping matters, all he was doing was raising his blood pressure.

“I mean, who does he think he is? Leaving you? You’re so much better off without him.”

“Remus,” he broke his silence. A single word spoken with the kind of force that commanded respect.

Remus, who had been sitting sideways in a chair inside sharpening a dagger, sat a bit straighter. “Need something?” A sinister grin crossed his face.

“If you are _trying_ to add insult to injury, you are succeeding.”

Remus stabbed his knife into a table and got up, walking out onto the balcony. He leaned his back against the railing to better hold a conversation. “I’m just saying. Him leaving you is probably the best thing to ever happen to you. If he didn’t appreciate you-”

The deep caw of a raven called out above them. Remus didn’t bother looking up but the other man did. His eyes widened and he had to bite his lip to prevent himself from looking too joyful. The raven circled a few times, and glinting in the sunlight he could see something on its neck.

“-it’s his loss.”

He turned his burning eyes to Remus. “Remus. Get out of my room.”

Remus froze mid breath and turned to look him in the eyes. His brows turned up slightly. “You don’t mean that.”

“Oh right, because I’m in such a joking mood today. Get out.”

The bird cawed again. Someone was getting impatient.

Remus eyed up the prince with suspicion. But he took a step away. “I’ll be right outside.”

The prince watched him leave, then turned his gaze back to the raven as it landed on the balcony.

“Took you long enough,” he scolded a bird. He reached for the capsule on the bird’s neck and it pecked at him. He pulled his hand back, avoiding the hit. “Watch it, bird brain. I am not above killing a pigeon.”

He opened the capsule and unfurled the message hidden within. He had waited so long for the news contained within his hands were fumbling over themselves and he nearly dropped it. Two weeks spent not knowing a thing about where Virgil was if he was even alive, two weeks of restless worry and he finally had his answers. All he could do as he began to read was hope and pray.

His eyes scanned over the words. The more he read, the tighter his grip on the paper became until he was crinkling the ends of it in a vice-like grip.

He slammed the paper down on the railing. “Patton…” he muttered. His voice was quiet, but there was a fury to it. “Why does Patton have him?”

The prince leaned back and crossed his arms. Why would Virgil be with Patton? Sure, Patton was a friend to Virgil, practically family, but Virgil would not have left him for Patton. And that brought him back to the thought he had had throughout the past few weeks. Virgil would not have left him. Not willingly. So what did that mean?

And what was he going to do to fix it?

Virgil was in the one place that he could not go. He still had half a year before he would be allowed back. Was that on purpose? Was someone trying to keep them apart? Someone?

He buried his face into his hands. He didn’t want to think about it, but there were only two someones in that city that would have any sort of reason to do this: his brother, and his father. Sure it didn’t seem like something the Patton he knew would do, but he didn’t know Patton anymore, it had been seven years since he’d spoken to him. And as to his father-

The prince squeezed his own arm. He didn’t have the highest opinions of his father. And if his father told Patton to do something, he would do it unquestioningly. The prince sighed, feeling a headache coming on. So he had his guess as to what had happened but that didn’t answer what he was going to about it? What could he do? Break the terms of his banishment just before they end?

* * *

**6/5/15 The Sixth Day of the Fifth Month of the Fifteenth Year of the Reign of King Thomas**

_There were ways to aggressively read a book. For example, reading with a grimace on your face, or turning each page forcefully, as if it were heavy, or with crossed arms as you lean over the book placed on a table. The eldest prince happened to be doing all of them._

_This fact did not escape his tutor. She tried to hide a smile as she watched. Prince Janus did not often pout and it was absolutely adorable. Dot knew she should try to ascertain what was wrong, but she was so reluctant to stop him. He certainly would not appreciate how cute she found him._

_Dot took a few deep breaths to stop herself from giggling, then pulled up a chair alongside the prince. She scooted into his field of view little by little._

_He looked up from his book, the same sourpuss on his face. “Is there something you need?”_

_She looked down at the book. It wasn’t the longest thing she’d ever given him to read and he should have finished it by now but a dent had hardly been made. Clearly, he had something on his mind._

_“No,” she said, playing it cool, “I’ll let you keep reading.”_

_With a huff, he went back to the book. He was so cute, she could barely hold it together. Dot stayed right next to him, practically floating over his shoulder. Janus attempted to read but kept glancing up at her._

_Finally, he couldn’t take it and slammed the book shut. He turned to his tutor. “There are other things you could be doing.” Dot was getting sassed by an eleven-year-old. “Such as, I don’t know, bringing my brother to lessons? Since he hasn’t been here in weeks.”_

_Alright, so that was it. Sibling quarrel. Dot nodded as she tried to understand. It wasn’t often that the princes fought, just as it wasn’t often that Prince Patton went to his lessons, either with her or with her husband. Janus wouldn’t normally be mad that Patton wasn’t attending lessons, therefore there was something else. Or perhaps it was someone else._

_“Where is Prince Patton?” Dot asked._

_Janus exhaled loudly as he leaned back in his chair. “With Virgil,” he said with venom and vitriol. “Like he always is.”_

_Okay, that was definitely what was bothering him. Virgil had been living with them for about a month but Dot had not seen him. It wasn’t a surprise, the poor boy had just lost his entire family and would need time to recover. Staying away from prying eyes seemed to be what he wanted. And him being with Patton made sense, they had been friends their whole lives, but so had he and Janus, yet he wasn’t with Virgil._

_“What are they doing?” Dot asked. She needed some more information here._

_Janus got up out of his chair and started pacing around the study, just like his father would do. “I don’t know what they’re doing. But they’re always together. Isn’t that_ **_so_ ** _fair? Patton’s spending all his time with_ my _fiance and I’m_ here _.”_

_Dot smiled. She picked up the book the prince had abandoned and carried it over to him. “Why don’t we end early today?”_

_His eyes bounced from her to the book. “Aren’t you supposed to be preparing me to be a good king?”_

_Dot handed him the book. “A good king needs a good relationship with his fiance.”_

_“Fiance,” Janus muttered. “We better be married by the time I’m king.”_

_“I’m sure you will be,” she said. “Why don’t you send your brother over to me? I think he needs an extra lesson.”_

_Janus eyed her suspiciously, as he was waiting for her to say something else, or it was a trick. But she just smiled at him._

_“Go ahead.”_

_Janus clutched the book to his chest and kept his eyes on her as he began to turn away. He walked towards the door without looking away but then once he reached it, the prince bolted down the hallway. He was going to go be with his fiance._

* * *

**6/10/29 The Sixth Day of the Tenth Month of the Twenty-Ninth Year of the Reign of King Thomas**

The doors to the prince’s room slammed open. Remus nearly jumped and turned his head. A smile crossed his face as he saw his prince with a fiery look in his yellow eye.

“Remus, pack a bag.”

Remus leaned forward. “Where are we going?”

“Home,” Janus stated. He had a genuine smile on his face, something that was getting rarer and rarer. And it was everything Remus had wanted to see.

Remus giggled. “We’re taking back your throne?! Overthrowing your father?!”

Janus gave a small laugh and it sent chills down his spine. “We’re taking back Virgil.”

And Remus’s blood ran cold.


	3. Night Terrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some descriptive violence in it.

**6/10/29 The Sixth Day of the Tenth Month of the Twenty-Ninth Year of the Reign of King Thomas**

The hallways of the palace were empty at such a late hour with no sounds but the echoes of Roman’s footsteps and the rain as it poured outside. It had been a sudden storm, no warning given, the sky just opened up in thunder and lightning, which was very odd for the time of year. Roman had been on his way to sit outside for a little bit but his plans had rapidly changed. Everyone else was likely asleep, so it was just him as he made his way back to this room. He found his eyes fixed on the door belonging to Lord Virgil as he approached it. He didn’t know why he was being so cautious but he felt like he needed to take heed.

As Roman reached the door, he stopped short. There was a faint noise coming from inside the room, struggling to be heard over the rain. He took a step closer, almost pressing against the door. It was crying. Virgil was crying.

Roman took a step back to weigh his options. No one knew he had heard that. He could just ignore it and move on. There would be no consequences. However, Patton had told him to treat Virgil like family. And more than that, he had defined himself but helping the helpless. Could he really just walk past someone crying without doing anything? Didn’t that go against who he was? Roman sighed. It wasn’t always easy being a knight.

He gave a cautious knock on the door, before entering anyway. It was nearly pitch black in Virgil’s room with the only light coming from the hallway. Roman couldn’t even see where the lord was until he appeared illuminated in a flash of lightning sitting by one of the large windows. There was a fierce glare on his tear-stained face, but he said nothing. It sent a chill down Roman’s spine and he inhaled sharply.

“Umm…” That look had sent all thoughts fleeing from his head and he felt more like he had just walked in on a murder scene than a crying man. The urge to just shut the door and walk away seized him. They could just pretend this didn’t happen, right? “Um. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Get out,” Virgil said. His voice was shaky, and though the room was dark again Roman could feel his eyes burning into him.

“...I...is everything okay?”

Virgil sniffled. And in the light of another flash, Roman saw him wipe his eyes.

“Just go.”

Roman’s grip tightened on the door. “Do you want me to go get Patton-”

“No!” He sounded more scared than angry. “...no. Don’t let him know.”

Okay. That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. What exactly could he do, then? He couldn’t just leave and pretend he hadn’t seen anything, he was already too deep. What choice did that leave him with?

“Alright...is it the storm?”

Virgil sighed.

Roman took a tentative step in, keeping a hand on the door still as a safety measure. Thunder rumbled and the rain rattled all around them. The lightning flashed again and revealed Virgil curled up holding his knees as more tears streamed down his face. Roman had to think of something to help this situation, but he honestly hadn’t been expecting Lord Virgil Stormbound to be afraid of thunderstorms. Still, everyone was afraid of them at one point or another. Even he had been back when he was very little and he could very faintly remember how that went.

“Have you ever heard the tale of Sir Squiggles the Brave?”

The room went silent for a moment.

“...What the fuck?”

Roman recoiled slightly from the language, those were hardly noble words. “Sir Squiggles,” he repeated. “The Brave.”

“...what?”

“That’s his name.”

“Who named him that?” Virgil asked. He didn’t sound as sad anymore, more confused.

“That’s just how it was told to me.”

“Who told you that?!”

“My Mama,” Roman defended. He shut the door and properly entered the room. “She told me this story when I was...three.”

The lightning flashed and showed Virgil staring at Roman with his mouth agape and a wrinkled brow. There were still tears in his eyes but he looked so much more confused than upset.

“You see, Sir Squiggles,” Roman began with a complete disregard for whether or not Virgil wanted to hear it, “he was a brave knight. A wandering knight errant, always looking out for the powerless. Well, one day he was riding down the road and saw a young boy sitting on the ground. The child was covered in dirt and appeared in need of some help. So, Sir Squiggles dismounted and came to sit beside the child. ‘Are you alright, young man?’ he asked. The child ignored him.”

Roman paused. Virgil said nothing.

“‘Where are your parents?’ Sir Squiggles asked. The boy didn’t answer. Sir Squiggles sighed. ‘You should go home. I’m sure they’re very worried about you.’ The boy said nothing. So, Sir Squiggles handed him a gold piece and told him to go back home. The boy nodded and ran off in the direction of the nearest town. And Sir Squiggles the Brave moved on. Then, the next day, Sir Squiggles went by the same spot again-”

“Why was he in the same spot on the same road twice?” Virgil piped up.

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask when I was  _ three _ ,” Roman said. “Anyways, as I was saying, the boy looked very sad, curled up crying. So, Sir Squiggles approached him. ‘What happened?’ he asked. ‘Weren’t you going home?’ The boy shook his head. ‘What happened to the gold I gave you?’ he asked. ‘A bad man took it,’ the boy replied. Sir Squiggles smiled and offered a hand to the boy. ‘Then we’ll just have to go get it back, won’t we?’ The boy took his hand and they walked into town together-”

“What happened to the horse?”

“It walked beside them.” Roman had never needed to defend the plot like this before. Granted, he had never told this story to anyone before, but still. “So, they walked into town which was under the rule of Lord Doodoo-Face McGee.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No. Hush. Well, it just so happened the lord was out in town on that day. And upon seeing Sir Squiggles he approached with joy, while the boy hid behind the knight. Sir Squiggles looked down at the scared look on the child’s face and knew that the lord was the one who had taken the boy’s money. The lord approached them.” Roman put on his best snooty aristocrat voice. “‘Ah, good Sir Squiggles, I hope this little urchin hasn’t stolen from you-’”

“Bitch,” Virgil commented.

Roman had to stifle a laugh. It seemed as though his audience was getting into the story. “Well, Sir Squiggles puffed his chest out and spoke up for the little lad. ‘The only thief I see here, is you, my lord. You have stolen the money I gave to this boy and will you return it at once.’ Doodoo-Face was taken aback. ‘You can’t speak to me that way. Your duty is to the leaders of the land.’ Sir Squiggles shook his head. ‘My duty is to the helpless. And I will fight for them.’ He drew his sword. The lord panicked and threw his money purse at the knight, before running in fear.

“Sir Squiggles put his sword away and handed the bag to the child. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘bring this to your family.’ The child looked down at his feet. ‘Thank you, mister...But I don’t have a family.’ Sir Squiggles smiled. ‘Then you do now.’ And Sir Squiggles picked up the boy the two went on their way. The end.”

Roman turned his head to the window as a stream of moonlight illuminated Virgil who was no longer crying.

“Oh, it seems the storm has stopped.”

“Yeah,” Virgil replied. His whole presence was softer, so much less of a terror than he had been.

“Well, I should go,” Roman said.

“Yeah.”

Roman went back to the door with a spring in his step, the same one he always had after doing something good.

“Wait.”

He turned back.

In the light there was no hiding as Virgil bit his lip, then took a deep breath. “Sorry I punched you.”

Roman was slightly taken aback. He had been expecting to be forced to apologize to Virgil, not the other way around. “...Thank you. Good night.”

“Good night.”

He shut the door gently, to avoid waking anyone else. And Roman took a moment to breathe in the silent hallway. His head turned back to the door. Maybe he had been wrong about Virgil. Just maybe.

* * *

**7/10/29 The Seventh Day of the Tenth Month of the Twenty-Ninth Year of the Reign of King Thomas**

Prince Janus lounged in his chair with the confidence of a man who owned the place. He did not, in fact, own the place. The study he was seated in and the whole winter citadel belonged to the head of household for the noble Calder family. Said head of house did not command the space quite as well as the prince did. They paced around, an anxious mess.

“Elliot,” Janus said, “I understand your concern but you know if I had another option I would take it.”

Elliot stopped in front of their desk. Nails blunted from biting tapped against the wood. They looked briefly out the window as snow gently gathered against the glass, then turned their gaze back to the two men before them, the prince and his knight who stood in a corner appearing in need of entertainment.

“I just don’t know.”

The prince adjusted his seat and looked to his knight.

“What I mean is,” Elliot continued, “I’m just worried about my people.”

Janus smiled. “I promise to do everything in my power to make sure they do not come to harm. I don’t want them to die, same as you. But the fact remains, to break my banishment and return to the capital to rescue my fiance from my family without the backing of an army would be suicide.” He leaned forward. “If all goes according to plan your soldiers will not even see combat, but I can’t return home without being able to fight should it come to that.”

“But…if you take them then the city will be undefended.” Elliot averted their gaze, trying not to meet the prince in the eye.

Janus rose. The tight-lipped look on his face spoke only of determination. The prince was not tall though he seemed to tower as he took a step closer to Elliot. They faltered, almost catching themself on the desk to back up. And they bit their nails seeing that look.

Janus gave a heavy exhale as his expression softened, no longer looking at Elliot and instead at the window. “Elliot, all of my allies are sending soldiers. I would  _ hate _ for you to be the only one not to.”

“Uh-”

“I don’t think I need to remind you how you become head of your house,” the prince commanded.

Elliot’s heart jumped into their throat and they turned their head down towards the floor as they attempted to swallow the lump in their throat. They shot a cursory glance to Remus, reclined against the wall, and to the mace at his side.

“No,” they said, eyes still transfixed. “You don’t.”

Janus smiled back at Remus then turned his attention to Elliot. “I take it I am still your king?”

“Of course.”

Janus moved over to Elliot’s side, leaning back against the desk. “You will do it, then?” When he did not receive an answer, he sighed. It appeared to be time for a change in approach. “I am not asking for myself. I am not doing this for conquest. I am trying to rescue the one whom I love. All for Virgil.”

Remus inhaled sharply but no one paid that any mind.

Elliot finally found it within themself to tear their eyes away from Remus’s mace and turned their gaze to the floor. “I’ll do it.”

A smile graced Janus’s lips. “Good. I will be leaving shortly. Have your soldiers ready as soon as possible. Remus, let’s go.”

And with that, the prince headed out the door, followed close behind by his personal guard. Remus, on his way, happened to bump a table with his weapon and it’s contents tipped over. He turned back to Elliot with a smile.

“Sorry about that. It’s heavy.”

A smug satisfied smirk crossed his face. And Elliot quaked.

Janus, not a foot past the door, smiled as he rolled his eyes. “You brute.”

Remus placed a hand on his shoulder. “That’s why you like me.”

* * *

**13/5/22 The Thirteenth Day of the Fifth Month of the Twenty-Second Year of the Reign of King Thomas**

_ Hidden under the shadow of the Winter Citadel, the city of Dimwatch was the northernmost settlement under the rule of King Thomas. It was cold and snowing eleven months of the year, and saw very little traffic from those who did not have to be there. Since it was so remote, the lord of the province felt very little pressure from the crown and was, for the most part, free to do as he pleased, which in the bloody lands of the north meant his headsman seldom saw the sweet solace of a day off. All the townsfolk would gather at a moment's notice in the town center to bear witness to their lord’s latest target going to their grave. And as a crowd gathered there on a summer day who’s temperatures were just above freezing, everyone knew what was going on. _

_ Lord Herbert was stood on top of the execution platform beside his youngest child, Elliot, as his guards dragged the dead-man-walking over who, for his part, was putting up quite the fight, straining against his restraints. In the crowd, a cloaked man departed from the side of his traveling companion and walked over to the stairs. His companion reached out to stop him but did not manage to. _

_ Lord Herbert looked over at the guards. “Did you recover my money when you captured this fiend?” He kicked the man. _

_ A guard handed over a coin purse that was practically bursting. _

_ “My, it looks like you’ve been busy.” He leaned down to look his captive in the eyes. _

_ The prisoner practically snapped forward like an animal. “I’m going to pluck out your eyes and wear them as earrings!” _

_ The lord jolted back, protecting himself and his money. “Oh, you’re not going to be doing anything of the sort.” _

_ “What exactly has this man done?” The lord, Elliot, and the guards turned to see an ordinary peasant stood up on the platform with them, relaxing in a place he certainly didn’t belong with his arms crossed. “Aside from having that mustache which is definitely a crime.” _

_ Lord Herbert grimaced. “Get out of here, trash, before this becomes a double execution.” _

_ The peasant rolled his eyes. “What a sensible reaction to a question.” _

_ One of the guards not participating in the torturous task of holding the prisoner approached the outspoken intruder and in one fluid motion slapped him so hard he fell off the platform. The rabble moved out of the way as the man hit the dirt. The man’s traveling companion sucked in air through his teeth and rushed over. He examined the mark on him. _

_ “That was dumb,” he said. _

_ “It was,” he replied in a judgemental way, as his eyes narrowed at the platform. He brushed some dirt off his face and stood back up. _

_ His companion sighed, being in no position to stop him. The man climbed the stairs again. The crowd saw him first, holding their breath on his behalf as the lord noticed him. _

_ “You again? Well, it seems you’ve picked your day to die.” _

_ The man removed the hood of his cloak revealing dark hair, and as his fingers ran through it, it turned blonde. His face changed before their very eyes and a devious smirk crossed his lips. Lord Herbert took a step back, not quite retreating but he was cautious, and the same went for the guards. The stranger winked at him and when his eye opened it was yellow with a slitted pupil. _

_ There were gasps. “It’s the prince,” voices chorused in a hushed whisper. _

_ Lord Herbert’s mouth dropped open. “Your highness...I wasn’t told you were in town.” _

_ “I just arrived. And may I say, what warm welcome this has been,” Prince Janus said. He sauntered over, stopping next to the prisoner. “Now, what exactly has this man done, again? I don’t believe you answered me. Though I am sorry if you did and I don’t remember. My head is still a little fuzzy from hitting the ground.” _

_ He did not appear a little fuzzy. His glare was venomous. _

_ The lord tossed the coin purse to his offspring who fumbled it with shaky hands. “He’s a brigand. A heinous highwayman who had been harassing helpless inhabitants of my hold. My men captured him just this morning. This province will be better once he is dead and burned.” Lord Herbert shot a virulent look to the ruffian, who for his part was looking somewhat smug hearing his achievements spoken aloud. _

_ “I see,” Janus said, “which helpless citizen was it that he was stealing from, exactly?” _

_ “Many,” Herbert declared in an attempt to stop the prince’s bullshit. “He deserves the death he has coming.” He kicked the man again. The bandit’s body buckled. _

_ Janus nodded. “Is he violent?” _

_ “Very.” _

_ “Thank you,” the bandit said very earnestly. “I work hard. Just like I’m gonna work hard ripping you to pieces once I get out of here.” _

_ “Mm.” Janus looked at the prisoner. “I see. Still, I find this a bit fast.” _

_ Herbert gave a stern look to the prince. “You have not been in the north long. This is normal. You-” _

_ “I understand perfectly well.” The lord recoiled a bit at the remark. “Execution is often unavoidable. But first, one has to determine if it’s warranted.” _

_ “The king has no issue with how I run my hold,” Herbert said. His glare lowered and his patience was running low. _

_ “Yes.” Janus took a step closer. “But my father isn’t here. I am.” _

_ “I don’t answer to  _ **_you_ ** _.” _

_ Prince Janus smirked and then smiled playfully. “I can give you a moment to reconsider that.” _

_ “Father,” Elliot pleaded and reached a hand out to him. _

_ “Shut up,” he snapped back. They recoiled and shrunk back, nervously swallowing hard. _

_ Herbert turned back to the prince. “I will never answer to a boy.” _

_ “Never?” Janus crossed his arms and shook his head. His words didn’t come across as earnest or sincere. He seemed to be playing. “Well, that’s just too bad. For you, that is.” _

_ Lord Herbert stepped forward. “You’re a long way from home. And really in no position to be talking like this. I’ll let it slide once since you’re a  _ child _ and don’t know what you’re dealing with. But daddy isn’t coming to help you.” _

_ Prince Janus took a step forward, meeting him. “Oh, I know. Last chance. There are worse things than answering to me.” _

_ Herbert’s brow lowered. “I’ve had enough of you. Guards!” _

_ Elliot buried their face in their hands as one of the guards holding the prisoner and one of the free ones took a step towards the prince. Then, they both stopped the instant the prince put a hand up. _

_ “What are you doing?” Herbert demanded. _

_ The prince smiled, confidence radiating off of him. “I’m only a child, but any child knows to do their homework before showing up at the test.” He sighed. “I was hoping to be able to let you live but clearly that’s not an option. Restrain him.” _

_ The guards obeyed, stepping forward to hold the lord who once held their loyalties. He fought them tooth and nail but he was a lion with no teeth and no claws, all roar. Lord Herbert yelled obscenities and curses. He screeched at his child for help, though he called them the wrong name. It was pathetic to watch. For Elliot, for the other guards, for the townspeople that witnessed the overthrow of their lord very quickly, and for Prince Janus. _

_ There was a noise behind him. A grunt. Movement. Another grunt. More movement. Janus didn’t turn around to see, and then he didn’t have to. It became pretty apparent what had happened when he was grabbed with a fury and a blade was pushed up against his throat. His assailant breathed heavy hot breaths down his neck. _

_ There was a brief look of fear that flashed in his eyes. Unable to turn his head, his frightened eyes glanced to the crowd, scanning over flabbergasted faces that were none of his concern. His eyes landed on a man in black and violet hood who was completely frozen. Janus let out a held breath and silently cursed himself for not being more careful. He tried to reassure Virgil with his eyes and a faint smile but he knew it was a losing battle. When waging the war of Virgil’s anxieties, a sympathetic look did not beat a blade to the throat. Janus could already tell he was in for an ear full when he got out of this one. _

_ “No one move or he gets it,” the prisoner spat, practically in Janus’s ear. _

_ It seemed as though one guard couldn’t actually restrain the prisoner effectively. That was good to know, not helpful at this point, but good to know. Janus couldn’t help but roll his eyes. The man’s plan was actually stupid. Where was he going to go? How far did he think he would get? Clearly he wasn’t thinking because he couldn’t have been  _ that _ stupid. Well, he could have been, Janus didn’t have enough information to fully rule that out but he doubted it. The man was behaving more like a cornered rat, desperately flailing for survival. And that was something that could be leveraged.  _

_ The guards holding onto Lord Herbert lurched forward. _

_ Janus put a hand up. “Don’t. That’s how we got into this situation.” _

_ “Shut up!” the man yelled. _

_ Janus rolled his eyes. “Well, you’ve gone about making allies in the most ineffective way possible-” _

_ “Shut up!” _

_ “I wasn’t done. I don’t know if it ever occurred to you, but I was the only person on your side a minute ago. You are doing yourself no favors.” _

_ The blade pushed even closer. Janus instinctively leaned back into his assailant's grasp and was bathed in an unpleasant aroma of sweat and grime. _

_ “Listen,” Janus began. His tone was calm and collected. “I am not your enemy here. I’m not the one who put your head to the block. Why would I? On the contrary, I see how valuable you are. You are strong. You are-” Smart would have been a stretch, he wasn’t going to say that. “Bold. And competent. Escaping your restraints, disarming a guard, and grabbing me all in one fell swoop? It’s impressive.” _

_ He felt the grip on him loosen slightly and he already knew he had won. _

_ “Only an idiot could fail to see your potential. No, you don’t deserve death.” _

_ “Well,” the man said, “it’s good to be recognized for once.” _

_ For once? Oh, Janus had hit something he could exploit. Even with a blade to his throat, he was smiling. “Lord Herbert. He wanted you dead. Would you like to kill him?” _

_ “Hm?” _

_ “Would you like to kill him?” Janus repeated. “I was going to have to do it anyway, so really you’d be doing me a favor. And who am I to deny you your revenge? On the contrary, I want to see it.” _

_ He turned his head ever so slightly to look his attacker in his eyes and the blade nicked him, spilling a drop of blood down his head. “Kill him. I’ll let you go, I’ll do better than that. But let me watch. Let me admire you.” _

_ Janus stopped talking and waited. He waited for the reply of a violent bloodthirsty man who wanted recognition. The man looked Janus up and down, then a wide smile came to his face. He lowered the blade and released his grip on the prince. _

_ Immediately any available guard rushed forward but Janus waved them off. _

_ “Don’t.” He looked back out at Virgil and gave him a loving if very smug smile. Virgil was neither smiling nor looking smug. Janus would deal with him in a minute. He turned back to his new friend. _

_ “I want my mace back.” _

_ Janus gestured to the guards. “Give it to him.” He began to move away from the platform and descended into the crowd. _

_ “What are you doing?” the man asked. He took his mace from a guard and none too delicately shoved the sword to him. _

_ “Don’t worry,” Janus said. “Just getting a better view.” _

_ He walked up to Virgil who looked just about ready to eviscerate him. Janus couldn’t help but smile as he looked into those eyes, so murderous, yet so genuinely worried. _

_ “Close your eyes,” he whispered. Then, he put his hands over Virgil’s ears. Virgil gave a frustrated sigh but complied. A part of Janus desperately wanted to hold Virgil as tightly as he could in that moment, partially to calm him, and partially to calm himself as the adrenaline was beginning to wear off. But he didn’t. There was a time and place for that and this, comfortably, was neither. _

_ “Well,” Janus commanded to the crowd, “it may not be the execution you were expecting to see today, but you’ll get to see one.” He turned his gaze to his new friend. “Whenever you’re ready.” _

_ The man smiled. His grin was far from sinister, more the look of a fool too ignorant to know a reason to be unhappy. He turned and when his gaze landed on Lord Herbert that same bubbly smile carried a promise that it had not a moment ago. _

_ “No! You can’t do this! I-” the lord began to scream for his life, but who exactly could he bargain with? The one person who could not care less what he was saying was the person who held his fate. And mercy didn’t seem to be on his mind. _

_ The man sauntered over. The lord thrashed and struggled to break free of the vice-like grips his own soldiers had on him, all in vain. _

_ He wound up his swing. The spike-covered mace buried into Lord Herbert’s jaw and went straight through until there wasn’t a jaw anymore, just bits of broken and battered bones. Still not satisfied, the man ripped the mace from flesh taking much of it with him and pouring blood from several holes. The lord wasn’t struggling anymore. He bashed him again, this time hitting the side of his head and turning his skull to splinters. A mix of blood, brains, and bone rained down from what was left of the lord’s head. The crowd roared. And it was over. _

_ The mace came out easier the second time, covered in gore just like it’s wielder. Janus uncovered Virgil’s ears. _

_ “Don’t open your eyes. I'll be right back,” he whispered and moved away from his fiance to return to the platform. Virgil nodded, squeezing his own hand so hard it was turning white. _

_ Janus applauded as he ascended the stairs, though he had to bite back bile at the disgusting display before him. His gaze briefly turned to Elliot as they stood completely frozen, their eyes still staring at what remained of their father. Janus only spared a moment of pity for them, they had been in on this, they knew where it was headed. Janus’s focus returned to the star of the show, green clothes painted red with blue blood. Janus struggled for words for a second as he could identify a bit of skull stuck to the man he was attempting to converse with. _

_ “Beautiful,” he lied. “I am thoroughly impressed.” _

_ He was. Disgusted and somewhat horrified but impressed nonetheless. It was violence the likes of which he had never seen. _

_ “Ooo thank you. I love a man who points out when he sees something he likes.” The man wiped his face and blood smeared down, streaking his face rather than freckling it. It looked better freckled. “See anything else you like?” He waggled his eyebrows. _

_ Okay. That was not where Janus thought this was going, but he could play along. He made a decent show of biting his lip before breaking eye contact with the man. _

_ “I do have a...proposition for you.” _

_ “Oooo favorite word.” _

_ Janus faltered for a moment to process that, before moving past it with his usual grace. “As you have...illustrated, my personal security is more than a little lax. I really am in need of a knight. If you are willing to do that to those who do me harm, I will see to it that you are  _ **handsomely** _ rewarded.” _

_ “I like the sound of that. Me. A knight.” He laughed. “I accept!” _

_ Janus smiled and extended out a hand. “You may call me Janus.” _

_ The man stepped forward. “Remus.” _

_ Remus fell to one knee before the prince. He took his hand in his and placed an uncharacteristically gentle kiss upon Janus’s hand. _

_ Janus’s interest was piqued. Remus new to do that? Sure it was an old fashioned way to address him but he would gladly take it. _

_ “Rise, Sir Remus.” _

_ “As you command, your highness.” _


	4. Dead Parents

**11/10/29 The Eleventh Day of the Tenth Month of the Twenty-Ninth Year of the Reign of King Thomas**

Roman was getting really sick of it being raining. There had not been a completely rain-free day in five days. Every night had been punctuated by a storm, none as bad as the one the night of Roman’s impromptu storytime, though. He was beginning to go stir crazy. It wasn’t like he ever had much to do, Patton was very seldom in need of protection and so he would try and go for a walk every night or at least enjoy the outdoors from a balcony or a window. However, due to the weather, he was stuck inside all day and this day he couldn’t even really stand and chat with his friend because Patton had royal duties to perform. Roman loved Patton dearly but he never hated being his knight more than when he was forced to just sit in the same room as Patton while advisors talked about tax rates and grain silo construction.

Roman stood in the corner of the king’s study. He had already thumbed through a few books on the shelves behind him, which he had failed to read as the vocabulary vexed him. Then he had started to count the floor tiles he could see, tried to draw Patton and the royal advisors by tracing their outlines with his finger through the air, he tried whistling his favorite tavern tunes before Logan had shut him up, he tapped his foot to the melody that was stuck in his head before Logan shut him down and he finally broke. Roman was out of activities to hold his attention. Yet the two advisors and Logan had not stopped talking. They had been there all day.

With a heavy sigh, Roman turned his attention to the desk. Patton looked relatively small hidden behind his father’s desk, though maybe that was just how far he had slunk down. His expression read a sort of confusion that had broken his brain and he could no longer process the words being said at him. Poor Patton. He was just not cut out for handling the nitty-gritty of running the kingdom. He, however, was knocked out of his daze when thunder crashed behind him and the room lit floor to ceiling in a blinding flash of lightning. Patton turned abruptly around to the window then looked back at the room.

“What time is it?”

“Between 5 and 6,” Roman said. He had very much been keeping track.

“Already?” Patton asked. He briefly glanced out the window then back to the room. “Roman, can you do me a favor?”

“Of course.” He was jumping to get out of that room.

“Can you go check on Virgil for me?”

Nevermind. He suddenly didn’t want to leave the room. Roman sighed. He was, of course, going to do it, how could he say no to Patton? But it wasn’t something he was clamoring to do. It wouldn’t be that bad. Virgil was strange, sure but if Patton had asked the same favor before storytime he would’ve been dreading it immensely. His opinion on Virgil had shifted from “that guy who punched him” to an ambiguous one. He still didn’t quite know what to make of him. Which meant he didn’t know how Virgil would react to him and he had to brace himself for the worst.

Roman put on a forced smile. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Thank you so much, Roman.”

Logan turned to him. “Please refrain from being punched, again. I have work to do today.”

“For once, we’re in agreement.” Roman gave Logan a very enthusiastic, and not at all sarcastic thumbs up and headed out the door.

Closing the door behind him, Roman found his surroundings to be, for the first time that day, quiet. He usually liked to talk over silence and break it up as soon as he could but for a moment, it was blissful. He took a deep breath in and started on his way to Virgil’s room. It was definitely where Virgil was; he had not seen him leave the room since arriving. Had Roman taken a moment to think about it, he might have wondered why but he did not. Virgil was just reclusive in his eyes, which he was perfectly fine with.

As he wandered past a portrait of the two princes, he paused. The portrait was pretty old, Patton couldn’t have been older than five which meant the oldest Janus could be was six but he carried himself with a dignity commonly reserved for men in their forties. The older prince had a serene glare across his face. Even though it was just a painting, Roman felt himself not wanting to look at the snake eye. That was the guy Virgil was engaged to? He had to look at that all the time? That was hard to imagine.

Roman began moving again. Logan had taught him the basics, but he really didn’t know anything about Virgil. He knew Virgil’s parents were dead, he was engaged to Prince Janus, and he got more invested in Roman’s story than he had expected. That was it. Why did Patton want him to check up on him? Was it the thunderstorm? It wasn’t like it was a terrible storm, Roman had only heard one boom of thunder. Yet, Patton had seemed worried.

He climbed the staircase closest to his destination. It seemed, one way or another, Roman was about to get some amount of answers. He stopped for a moment as a thought entered him. Was Virgil going to need him to tell another story? He hoped not because he was drawing a serious blank.

With wind and rain beating against the solid walls of the castle, Roman found himself stood yet again in front of Virgil’s door. He knocked, as a courtesy, but entered without waiting for an answer. Roman held his breath and his chest grew tight only for a moment.

Virgil was not sitting in a corner hiding, already an improvement over the last time he had seen him. But since that corner was where Roman’s eyes went first, he didn’t see Virgil. His eyes scanned the room. He had only been in Virgil’s room once before and had not gotten a good look at it in the darkness. It was surprising how nice it was. For starters, it was bigger than Patton’s which struck him as odd. Patton was an actual prince, Virgil was not yet his room was nicer. There was an enormous four-poster bed draped in violet, a motif that ran throughout the room. There was an extravagant fireplace of carved something, probably marble. A desk in a corner sat next to embellished violet drapes. The room was on a corner with two walls covered almost floor to ceiling in windows. On one of those walls was a door leading to a balcony. And stood in the doorframe looking out was Lord Virgil.

When he turned around, Virgil’s expression became sour. Roman knew he was the reason and that he should’ve said something at that but he continued to stare for an extra moment. Virgil looked different. Rain-soaked hair fell into his eyes, he wore a loose-fitting black blouse, his trousers were nice, and he stood on bare feet against the stone floor. Virgil looked attractive. Roman had not expected that. Why was he suddenly attractive, he still had that same grimace on his face, was it just the wet hair? It was probably the wet hair. But Roman found himself taken aback for a moment.

He swallowed his thoughts. This was the same guy that had punched him and definitely didn’t find that attractive.

“Patton sent me,” Roman said, “to check up on you.”

“Oh. I was beginning to wonder when he’d turn up. Where is he?”

“Patton is waging the battle of boredom against hours of talk of taxes.”

Virgil turned back to the outside and sighed. “Oh. You can tell him I’m fine.”

Roman nodded, torn as to whether or not that answer actually sufficed. “Okay...okay. I’ll do that...You were expecting him?”

“Yeah. He always…He used to make sure I was okay, today.”

“What’s today?” Roman took another step into the room.

Virgil looked over his shoulder. His eyes scanned over Roman’s body, then he turned away and back to the balcony. “...It’s my mom’s birthday.”

Roman nodded. That cleared that up. Suddenly, everything made perfect sense to him. No wonder Patton was so worried. And unlike dealing with thunder anxiety, this was something Roman was familiar with and could handle.

“Ah. I see.”

“Yeah. Whatever. It’s fine.”

“I...” Roman danced around trying to find the right word, “understand.”

“Do you?” Virgil spat. “Do you really?” He sighed and shook his head.

Roman recoiled, then struck back with the same tone, “Patton always checks up on me on my Mama’s birthday. Or the anniversary.”

Virgil spun around, his wet hair whipped, and his expression softened. “...Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah.”

Lightning struck and Roman moved towards the other windows in Virgil’s room, watching as the downpour worsened. The room was silent for a moment, no sound but the rain. He knew he should’ve just left and told Patton but he stayed for an extra moment.

“...What’s her name?” he asked.

Virgil looked over cautiously. “...Mary Lee. And you?”

“Sasha.”

“How long has it been?” Virgil asked.

“Eleven years. You?”

“Fourteen.”

Silence filled the air again. It had been a while since Roman had thought about his mother. She always danced around in the back of his head like a song he could never get out, not that he wanted to. Things had been going good for him, so he didn’t really need to think about her. Roman turned his gaze to Virgil’s reflection in the window. Virgil didn’t have the same luxury.

He sighed. Was he really about to do this? “It's always worst on her birthday,” he said. “Or ours.”

“Ours?”

Roman sighed, again. The complicated situation of the  _ us _ that had followed him his entire life was not something he had hoped to get into. “My brother and I.”

“Oh. Yeah. Him.”

He turned to look at Virgil. “Have you  _ met _ him?”

Virgil turned. “Remus?”

“Yep.”

“Yeah.” Virgil nodded. “That’s why I punched you.”

Of course. It wasn’t like it was anything new. He had been dealing with the repercussions of having Remus as a brother his entire life. That incident was just another thing to add to the list of the many things he needed to get him back for.

“You are not the first. I have been taking hits for him for years. How did you meet him?”

Virgil groaned. “It’s complicated. I was at his execution.”

Roman jolted upright and Virgil turned to him.

“He’s fine. It’s a long story.”

Roman couldn’t say he was surprised. He always knew that if  _ he _ didn’t kill Remus someone else was going to beat him to it. There was a slight relief to the knowledge that he still had a chance to murder his brother.

“Don’t worry. I don’t like him. Mama told us to stay together after she died and we nearly killed each other.”

Virgil nodded.

“Good to know he’s alive, I guess. I’ll be sure to tell Mama.” Roman paused. He looked at Virgil. “Do you ever do that?”

“Do what?”

“Talk to them? I always look up at the stars and find hers on clear nights. The clerics say people become stardust when they die, so I talk to her star. I tell her what I’ve been doing, how Patton is, how Logan is. You know?”

“...Can’t say I’ve ever done it.”

Roman nodded and looked back out over the mist blanket vista. “It makes her feel closer. And it helps with birthdays and holidays.”

“I’ll have to try it sometime.”

Roman cracked half a smile. “You know, Patton tries his best to help. And he is so, so kind. But he really doesn’t know.”

“Yeah. You’re right. When we were kids he tried so hard to help...but,” Virgil gripped his sides, “with him it’s always...it’s always just avoiding it. We used to play games or talk about something, anything, else. And that helped. Sometimes.”

“He doesn’t know what it’s like. And I envy him that.”

“Same...No one deserves to know what it’s like.”

In the reflection in the window, Roman saw Virgil turn around and lean against the window, looking at him, so he replied in kind.

“It’s hard. But they live on. In different ways. Mama’s alive in the stars and her stories.”

“Right,” Virgil said. He didn’t sound too convinced. Roman believed it though. At least, it gave him hope and some amount of joy. If Virgil didn’t want that, that was his business but Roman didn’t agree. He took a step away from the wall and towards the door. He had hung around long enough and had kept Patton waiting.

“She’s the one who told you that weird Sir Squiggles story, right?” Virgil said.

Roman perked up. “It’s not a weird story and yes. Mama always told the best stories. She knew all of the great ones about knights, and princesses, and sorcerers, and chivalry! Her stories inspired me.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he deadpanned. “Your whole...deal, it’s right out of a fairytale.”

“Thank you! I love fairytales. They’re full of happy endings.”

“Yeah, but that isn’t real.”

“Why not?”

Virgil furrowed his brow but said nothing. His point was obvious and Roman of all people knew it.

He smiled. “I like happy endings.  _ I _ think they’re real.”

“You have evidence to the contrary.”

“I don’t know how my story ends, yet. But I can tell you, it will be happy.”

“That’s...literally not how anything works.”

“Any ending can be happy, all it takes is a skilled narrator,” Roman said. He was looking at Virgil but his gaze was miles and years away. “My Mama lived a good life. She fell in love, loved her children. She was happy. I consider that a happy ending.”

Virgil scoffed. “I don’t think what happened to my family could be swung as ‘happy.’”

Roman stopped a sigh before it left him. What was it that Logan had said about Virgil’s parents? He was struggling to remember since he wasn’t paying much attention when Logan had said it. He couldn’t spin a story if he didn’t have some details to work with. He could have asked Virgil. But, while Roman was not smart, he was smart enough to know that was a bad idea. Well, it seemed as though that conversation track was pretty dead.

The duo stood in silence for a moment.

“I take it you didn’t like fairytales when you were young,” Roman said.

Virgil looked up with a wary smirk. “No. I didn’t really read them.”

“Who said anything about reading? I don’t read.”

“Yeah, I could tell that too.”

After years of dealing with Logan, Roman knew when he had been insulted. He crossed his arms.

“Well, I can tell  _ you _ didn’t like fun.”

“I liked  _ fun _ ,” Virgil defended. “But fun is cold hard sarcasm. At least it was in my house.”

“Oh, it runs in the family?”

“Yeah. Mom and Dad had a really dry sense of humor. And Mom could practically kill a man with wit.”

“...Is that...fun?”

“It was.” Virgil smiled. “She and Dad joked a lot, like that. With each other, with me, with Thomas. They were never happier than when we visited here. Thomas really couldn’t keep up with their sarcasm but…” His face fell as he trailed off. “Well, it was fun back then.”

Roman nodded. “Joking with family and friends, visiting them, that sounds happy to me. They were happy for you?”

“Yeah.”

“Then it’s a happy ending.”

Virgil looked up into Roman’s eyes. His face softened, almost reaching a smile as Roman smiled back at him. They looked at each other for a moment, neither one saying a word. Roman found himself feeling warmer. Virgil’s eyes were very pretty now that he was staring at them, such a deep dark brown that they looked black. Virgil was pretty.

Virgil gave a short exhale and rolled his eyes, cutting the tension. “I guess so.”

Roman was grateful for the moment’s end. He was not attracted to the surly lord. He wasn’t. The warmth blossoming in his chest was the rewarding feeling of having helped someone. Besides, Virgil was taken. By the Serpent of the North. Not someone Roman wanted to fuck with.

His eyes moved away from Virgil and out the window where a glorious sunset was breaking through the clouds. “Oh it stopped raining.”

“Yeah.”

Roman took a deep breath. “Well, I should go tell Patton that you’re doing okay.”

“Yeah, you probably should.”

“Okay...goodbye, then.”

Roman walked halfway to the door.

“Wait,” Virgil spoke up.

He stopped and turned. Virgil didn’t make eye contact and shook his head slightly. He sighed.

“It was Roman, right?”

“It’s actually Sir Roman.”

Virgil glared at him.

“Roman’s fine.”

“Good. Um.” Virgil looked down at the floor, then back up. “Thanks. It was nice to talk about them. I never really do.”

“It was nice to talk about Mama.” Roman smiled.

“Yeah. I’m basically always here so…” He trailed off. “It’d be nice to talk about them again,” Virgil blurted out.

Roman raised an eyebrow. Was he being invited back? That sounded like an invitation. One that set a little bird flying in the pit of his chest. Roman nodded. “Sounds good.”

Virgil smiled. It was brief and pretty soon he was back to his gloomy ways but it was there. And it was a beautiful smile.

* * *

**11/10/29 The Eleventh Day of the Tenth Month of the Twenty-Ninth Year of the Reign of King Thomas**

A definitive downside to being on the road marching south with an army in secret was the lack of creature comforts. It had been about seven years since the last time Janus had been traveling and he did not miss it. He was always freezing without a warm fireplace to sit by, his boots were seemingly perpetually wet and nothing he could do would fix it, and worst of all, he couldn’t lock a door he didn’t have which meant that any number of undesirables could and did keep finding their way into his tent. This was the price he paid for his entire inner circle being made of undesirables. It seemed as though Remus was determined to become part of the furniture, considering he never left and wouldn’t have objected to being sat on. Janus really only had himself to blame.

“There’s something sexy about this,” Remus said, though Janus had not been paying enough attention to know what he was referring to. “Don’t you think so?”

“Oh absolutely.” Janus didn’t even look up from the tactical reports his main advisor had written up.

“It’s like something out of a fairytale. The exiled prince returns with an army, to take what he wants even if the city must run red with blood!”

“Oh, rivers of it.” Janus squinted at the paper. He was beginning to suspect he might need glasses like his brother. Then again, he was reading by candlelight, and the ink color was absurd.

“It is a fairytale, one of those dark and twisted grim ones. You know, the ones that were fun.”

“Mm-hmm.” Seriously, what kind of advisor would write a serious tactical report in orange? Why did he bring orange ink? Where did he get it?

“Well, it  _ would _ be perfect if it wasn’t all for... _ Virgil _ .”

Having heard the magic word, Janus looked up, finally. He placed down the report and sighed. “You know, while you look good in green,  _ this _ is not you.”

Remus collapsed into a chair next to him so forcefully he nearly knocked it over. It rocked back and forth as Remus presented his pouty face.

“Why do you even  _ want _ him back? You can do better than that dark and stormy fright.”

Janus leaned forward, resting on his hand and smiling as sweetly and innocently as he could muster. “Remus,” he purred, “I have to.”

“Why?” he whined.

“It’s politics.”

“If you’re gonna be king, why does it matter? You can do anything...or anyone,” he muttered.

“Oh, if it were that simple, I’d have been king ages ago. No. I need support in the South. Loyalty is unwavering in the North but I’m not aiming to rule half the kingdom. And the South doesn’t like me, I can’t understand why.”

He understood why. The South had always been wary of magic in ways the North was not. He was feared for in both locations yet in one it garnered him respect and in the other, none. That in combination with how much the South adored his father meant that there was no love left for him.

“And how does Virgil get people to like you? He can’t even get people to like him.”

“Here maybe.” Janus stood up and began to pace as he talked. “But his family is very important to the South. The Stormbounds were well-liked and had a lot of influence. And then, after Lee and Mary Lee Stormbound’s tragic deaths, Virgil only became more sympathetic to the people. So, me risking it all to be with him is the kind of romantic story they’ll love.”

He turned to Remus to see if he was following that line of logic. Remus looked pensive, which for him was very impressive. His fingers drummed against the table and his lips were shut tight with his brow low.

“...But if he  **_dies_ ** then at the end you get the same result and you’re free.”

Janus physically recoiled but tried to catch himself as soon as he noticed. He scoffed, slipping back into his regal self. “That’s just not how things work. I would be blamed. No, no. This is the only way.” He stepped closer. “This is just a sacrifice I have to make. You understand.”

Janus placed his gloved hand on top of Remus’s. He gave him a seductive smile. “You understand.”

Remus’s cheeks reddened slightly. A wide toothy grin spread across his face.

A raven cawed outside the tent and Janus snapped up abruptly.

“Right, well, it’s late and cold so I should really be heading to bed. Good night, Remus.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “If you’re gonna be cold-”

Janus interrupted him with a forced laugh. “Oh, you’re funny. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Remus stood up and took a step or two towards the exit before he stopped and looked at Janus. The raven cawed again. With a smile, Janus waved Remus on his way. Every step seemed to take Remus an hour as Janus was practically rocking on his heels.

Finally, the flap of the tent closed and the prince was alone. He bolted over to his clothes and threw on his most unassuming cloak. Then he had only to listen for Remus’s footsteps as their crunches through the snow grew more faint.

The raven cawed.

“In a minute,” Janus muttered to a bird that could not hear him.

Finally satisfied with the distance between him and his knight, he exited the tent into a freezing hellscape of an encampment. Soldiers stood on night watch walked about the area or huddled around fires holding quiet conversations amongst themselves. The raven, only seen as it blocked stars flew off west out of the camp. Janus snuck away, keeping close to the bird without passing closely by anyone. The prince walked behind a tent but came out the other side wearing a different face.

Pretty soon the light of the makeshift settlement was left behind and Janus found himself following fowl far into the freezing wild.

“Where are you going?” he asked, already missing the warmth of his tent.

At last, the raven found it’s rest. It landed on the arm of a cloaked man, stood far away from any who would seek to hear.

Janus returned to his natural face. “Oh. I wasn’t aware tonight was going to be an in-person visit.”

The man turned and struck a hand to his hip. “Babe, is that all you have to say for yourself? Not even like an ‘I’m sorry?’ I sent little Mocha to the usual spot to find you were long gone.”

Janus rolled his eyes. “I told you we were leaving.”

“Yeah, and do you know how hard it was to track you through the ass-end of the tundra-ville? An army of footprints and of course it has to start snowing as soon as you leave so I don’t get any of them. I’m just saying, I am freezing my perky little ass off out here so an increase to my hazard pay wouldn’t go amiss.”

“Remy. The point?” Janus sighed. He considered himself pretty sarcastic but he could not hold a candle to this man.

Remy glared at the prince as his raven flew off. “Oh bitch, I’m sorry was that not pointed enough for you? Cause, like, I can go and, like, tell you what I found some other time. Whatever, it’s chill with me. Actually, everything’s chill with me because I’m  _ fucking _ cold!”

Janus jolted to attention. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “I apologize. Please, Remy, what have you learned? Is Virgil alright?”

Remy sighed. “Listen, sis.”

That was not a good sign.

“I’m not gonna say I don’t know-”

“You don’t know?” Janus snapped. “That is all I asked you for!”

“Okay, chill. I got other stuff. I’m not a one-trick pony. So, here’s the tea.”

Janus rolled his eyes. This man was the most bizarre spy he had ever employed and, for reasons that escaped him, the best.

“No one at the palace knows a thing about him. A couple of people have, like, heard he’s there but, like, no one’s seen him. So, getting information is tough, sweetie. You’re just lucky I have a gossipy bitch in the palace. Otherwise, we’d have no shot, that place is locked up tighter than a virgin’s legs when her man’s at war-”

“So what you’re saying is,” Janus interrupted, “you don’t know anything. If no one’s seen him, then you don’t even know if he’s been hurt, or if he’s  _ alive _ .”

“Okay, I’m getting some harsh vibes here. I came all this way and I’m feeling so attacked right now.”

“Good.”

Remy sighed and pushed hair out of his face. “Look, babs, I’m doing what I can here. But a guy’s only got so many birds. I’ll send a letter to my guy to see what’s up. Your man hasn’t been to the doctor, so take from that what you will. And while I get it you’re a little pissed right now-”

“ _ No _ , you don’t say.”

“I have been doing other work, too. But if you’re gonna be like that, then, we can call it here and I’ll tell you what your advisors have been up to some other time.”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “They’ve been up to something.”

“Maybe.” Remy crossed his arms. “How about that increase to my hazard pay?”

Janus gave a long-suffering sigh. While he was not pleased with Remy, his advisors were the best kind of untrustworthy snakes. So though it pained him to do so, he had to cave on this one.

“A five pound increase. Is that acceptable?”

Remy scoffed and refused to even look at him.

“Ten pounds.”

“Honey, that’s a really funny joke. I lost two birds to just your little knight last year. Can you train messenger ravens? Because, babe, let me tell you it is expensive and tedious.”

“Twenty pounds of additional coffee, that’s on top of what I’m already paying you.”

“Deal.”

Remy wasn’t originally paid in coffee. But whenever he was given a bonus of some kind, Janus tried to make it a rarer item that only he or someone with as much influence as him could acquire, coffee was one such item and the spy had taken to it like fire to dead leaves. Over the years of their acquaintance, Remy’s pay had shifted from primarily money to primarily coffee. It was an absolute nightmare to acquire, not being native to the area, and only a few sellers in the country were able to get it. Remy was probably the owner of the largest coffee supply in the entire kingdom at this point.

Janus rolled his eyes. What Remy even needed more coffee for was beyond him.

“Good, now what has my inner circle been up to?”

“They’ve been meeting a lot, sis. Late at night, when you’re not around.”

“Who?”

“All of them.”

“ _ All  _ of them?”

“Yeah, even Remus.”

That was unusual. Typically, the strategists and intellectuals didn’t have much to say to Remus. There wasn’t much common ground of conversation to be had there.

“What are they saying?”

“Don’t know. I haven’t quite been able to get close enough yet, you have a lot of paranoid freaks in there, babe. But since I’m getting my bean juice, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good,” Janus said. He began to turn and head out. “Send me a letter.”

“Oh, there’s no need. I’m coming with your little war wagon-”

“Remy.” His tone dropped. “Even if we’re ten feet apart, send me a letter.”


	5. Midnight Romance

**18/10/29 The Eighteenth Day of the Tenth Month of the Twenty-Ninth Year of the Reign of King Thomas**

“Which one’s your parents?” Roman asked. He stood at the edge of Virgil’s balcony, his arms on the railing, his eyes up at the sky. Overhead, seas of violet and blue and millions of white dots filled the sky like paint splattered against a canvas. While Roman had never been an astronomer, he had always been in awe of the galaxies above him. And on a night as clear as this one he was bathed in the light as powerful as the sun. He had been going to Virgil’s room for about a week but it had never been this clear and beautiful.

Virgil got off of his spot leaning against the wall and headed over to the railing.

“The Spider, right?” Virgil began as he pointed to a prominent constellation. “The head, that’s my family.”

Roman followed the line of sight to a cluster of stars. The Spider was one of the earliest constellations he had learned and much as he was not fond of the animal, it was a lovely group of stars.

“Wow. Important.”

“Yeah, so’s my family. The main body of the family has always been the head, the branches are the legs. So that star is my parents, grandparents, great-grandparents going back...I think I can name ten generations.”

Roman’s eyes widened. Then his expression fell; he didn’t know the names of his own grandparents.

“What about you?” Virgil asked. “Which one’s your family?”

Roman’s smile returned and he pointed. “The tail of the Wolf, if you follow it down about three fingers, that’s where it would be, it’s pretty hard to see. But that’s Mama and Papa.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Just them?”

“Yeah.” Roman looked down at the stone railing he held onto. “Mama’s parents didn’t really like Papa and Papa’s parents didn’t really like Mama, so it’s just them.” His gaze returned. “But that’s where I’ll be one day.”

“Really? Even if you married?”

“Definitely. I didn’t inherit a legacy, so it’s up to me to make one.”

Virgil nodded but his face sunk down into half a smile. “You’re probably better off without a legacy, you know? It’s too much pressure. Like, I really  _ wanted _ the crushing existential weight of all my ancestors looking over my shoulder, measuring every single thing I do with their eyes always judging me from their eye in the sky.”

“...You must be fun at parties.”

“I don’t go to parties. That’s where expectations from people who aren’t dead get you.”

What did that even mean? Roman turned to gage if Virgil was joking.

Virgil was smiling and nodding. “Welcome to being nobility. It sucks.”

“Maybe for you. Patton doesn’t think so.”

“Patton’s a second child,” Virgil retorted as if the statement explained itself.

“What does that mean?”

“Seriously? Second children don’t get expectations. They are under no obligation to continue the family line. Unlike firstborns who get it shoved down their throats.”

Roman rolled his eyes. He  _ was _ the second child in his family and expectations were something he was familiar with. His Mama had only wanted the best for him and for him to have the best possible life, but she expected him to be responsible. She never asked the same of his brother. So, he knew that when they gave up on her last wish, it didn’t bother Remus one bit. His fist tightened. He only wished it didn’t bother him. He looked back up at the sky. “You’re just being dramatic.”

Virgil leaned down on the railing to get, purposefully, in his line of sight with an are-you-kidding-me kind of expression. “...When I was five my mom explained the pain of childbirth to me.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Because I was a firstborn, I would have to go through it one day. Might as well get explaining it out of the way early.”

“...how did that go?” Roman asked. He was pretty sure he knew what the answer was going to be but he had to ask.

“I cried.”

Roman nodded. That was the answer he expected.

“Yeah, not my best memory of my parents. Like, I know she was just trying to prepare me for the world. But that. That sucked.”

Roman paused and looked at Virgil. That was the first bad thing he had heard about Virgil’s mother in the week they had been talking about her. Their conversations tended more towards happy memories. He had gotten to know Virgil’s parents pretty well through their discussions but that was new.

Virgil seemed to notice his confusion. “Don’t get me wrong. I loved them and they were great. But they weren’t perfect. Mom was a little much. And Dad was a little quiet.”

“I can’t relate.”

“Oh, forgive me.” Virgil rolled his eyes. “Didn’t realize Sasha Anderson was flawless.”

“She was,” Roman defended.

“Nothing about her ever pissed you off? Even in hindsight?”

“Like what?” His mind had already found examples though.

“Like…” Virgil sighed. His gaze rose to the sky. “Like Dad never had opinions about things. Everything was always good with him. Which, when you wanted a definite opinion from him, sucked.”

Roman nodded. “Mama...she never took sides. Every fight Remus and I had, no matter who started it, we both got blamed. And I never started it.”

“Sure,” Virgil said.

“I didn’t! All I had to do was walk in front of Remus and he’d hit me upside the head.”

“Well, don’t walk in front of him, then.”

“Like that would work. He never needed a reason to fight.”

Virgil muttered something. Roman didn’t know what but decided to ignore it.

“No,” he said, “Mama never took sides.”

“Yeah, I get that. It sucks. And it’s not like you can really talk about it with anyone. They’re gone, so they’re heroes. And they were, but they weren’t perfect.”

“Yeah.” Roman loved his mother dearly. And he always put the bad out of his mind. What good did it do him to think about it? There wasn’t anything he could do about it. He wasn’t going to be able to tell her or anyone. At least, he always thought he wouldn’t.

His eyes wandered to Virgil. Their relationship was bizarre. They talked almost exclusively about their dead loved ones which was usually something reserved for people he was very close with. And it could not be said that he and Virgil were particularly close, but he really did like talking with him. There were things that only he could understand, things that couldn’t be said with Roman’s other friends. And he and Virgil were friends. They hadn’t started on the best of terms but they were friends.

It was nice to have someone to talk to. And it didn’t hurt that Virgil was very very pretty. Roman’s breath hitched when he looked at that face. He had thought that would go away but it didn’t. If anything, it was worse.

He cleared his throat and turned away. “So, um, what else?”

Virgil wrinkled up his face as he turned to the knight. “What do you mean ‘what else?’”

“I mean, what else do you want to talk about? You know, since you started this after all.”

“Oh  **_I_ ** started this? Cause coming into my room at night, without even knocking, when I didn’t even know you, that didn’t start this?”

“Well, I had to. You were crying.”

“To most people, that’s an invitation to stay away.”

Roman shrugged. “I had to help.”

A few moments passed as that statement lingered in the air. His cheeks burned under Virgil’s gaze. Why wasn’t Virgil saying something? He wasn’t sure how much more of this silence he could take. The fluttering in his chest was only growing more desperate. It wasn’t fair. Why did he have to be such a hopeless romantic? An attractive man showed him any sort of attention and he was falling apart at the seams.

“Well,” Roman said, “it worked out.”

“Mm hm.”

Damn it! What was he supposed to read from that?! He cleared his throat. “You know, if you ever want to leave this room. Logan, Patton, and I sometimes go out for drinks. If you’d like to join us.”

His eyes widened. “Patton drinks?”

“A little. One ale usually. Two and he’s under the table.”

“Oh. He didn’t used to drink at all. Guess a lot’s changed.”

“Yeah…” Roman said. He bit the corner of his lip as he tried to find the words for what he wanted to say. They hadn’t talked, basically at all, about Virgil’s years at the palace. And Roman was kind of dying to know about them. More specifically, he was dying to know about the eldest prince. He hadn’t really had the opportunity to ask before. “Did you not used to drink with Patton and...his brother?”

Virgil looked at Roman for a moment before casting his gaze down, all traces of a smile disappeared from his face. “Patton didn't. We were teens, you know?”

He had gone drinking lots of times as a teen but that hardly seemed pertinent. “Probably for the best. For Patton, anyway. I have third wheeled Patton and Logan lots of times and it’s not always the most fun position to be in. All the affection and the kissing and-”

“Well, we didn’t do that,” Virgil snapped.

Roman recoiled. That was quite a strong reaction that wasn’t really warranted. “Okay. Touchy subject.”

“Look, I just don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay. Fine.” Roman turned away, same as Virgil. He could take a hint. He didn’t understand it though. It wasn’t like he had said anything super intense or anything. He tapped his fingers. “...So, what  _ did _ you guys used to do?”

“What the fuck? You’re still talking about it!”

Roman looked at Virgil, gesturing wildly as he spoke. “What part of this conversation is off limits here?!”

“How about all of it?!”

“We talk about dead parents all the time but your  _ fiance _ is where you draw the line?!”

“YES!” Virgil yelled. He let out a breath and his anger broke way to something else. He turned his gaze down to his hands. “Why do you care?”

Roman took a moment to breathe as well. He may have taken that a bit too far. “...I was just wondering.”

Virgil almost sighed but it did make it that far. His expression changed. His lips relaxed from their previous tight position, but no traces of a smile came. His face was almost entirely neutral. “...He’s not my fiance anymore.”

Roman’s eyes widened.

Virgil turned with a fake smile. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Roman swallowed his pride. He didn’t even know what to say. He’d been such a dick. No wonder Virgil didn’t want to talk about it. And he’d tried to force him. What kind of hero does that?

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Whatever. Just forget about it.”

It was silent for a moment. Roman looked back up at the stars as a few clouds had rolled in. He was not going to forget about this. Much as guilt was eating away at him, this only made him want to know more. How long had  _ that _ been the case for? Did Patton know? And he bit his lip as his eyes wandered to Virgil. They tried to drink in the man next to him, the man who still made his heart flutter, even as it was sinking. Virgil was no longer engaged.

He shouldn’t have been happy about it. That wasn't what the heroes in all the stories did. They weren’t  _ happy _ when bad things happened to people. They weren’t happy when happy relationships broke up. Then again, did he really know it had been a happy relationship? No one wanted to talk about, not Patton, not Virgil. Maybe it wasn’t a good relationship. And maybe this was a blessing to Virgil, freeing him of some broken betrothal that caused him nothing but woe. And Virgil’s resistance to talking about it only came from all the horribly painful memories of the years he was trapped in that torture! Oh, that snake-faced bastard! How dare he do that to Virgil?!

“So,” Virgil said. It broke Roman out of his daze, and he realized he’d been staring. “...Wanna talk about dead parents again?”

“Oh absolutely.”

It was probably for the best that that train of thought stopped there. His mind was moving way too far, way too fast.

* * *

Roman closed Virgil’s bedroom door and his knees nearly gave way causing him to slink down like he was a wobbly newborn foal, still unsure how to walk. Hours had passed of just them talking until it had gotten too late to justify staying any longer unless he planned to sleepover (a frightening suggestion that would have killed Roman on the spot had he been asked.) His cheeks were feeling so warm and he had to just hurry back to his room before it overcame him. He powerwalked down the corridor.

Roman entered his own room in all it’s small solitude. The room was almost completely dark with only the light from the single window to light it up. He, calmly, headed over to the table to light up a few candles, since he was practically vibrating on the inside and wouldn’t be able to sleep anytime soon. Once his own personal kingdom was illuminated by the soft glow of the candles and he could see, Roman jumped. He jumped into the air.

He had feelings for Virgil. He had  _ feelings _ for  _ Virgil _ . There was no point in denying it at this point, just looking at the man was enough to fill his stomach with butterflies. And Virgil was single.  _ Virgil _ was  _ single! _

He was exploding with so many emotions he couldn’t take it. Roman bolted over to the bed, collapsed face first, and grabbed a pillow. He hugged it for a moment and when that failed to alleviate the pressure in his chest, Roman screamed into it.

He flipped over and pressed the pillow to his chest as he kicked his legs pointlessly in the air. “Oh, it is a beautiful night!”

After a few moments of rolling on the bed, there was a knock at the door. Roman sat up straight like a dignified hunting dog that had just been witnessed playing. Who would be knocking on his door at that hour? No one else was awake. Except Virgil. Oh, stars, what if it was Virgil?

He tossed the pillow aside and ran to the door.

“Oh, Logan, what are you doing here?”

The very smart and refined Logan did not really look either at that hour. His hair was no longer tied back and as a result, formed a cloud around his head. He was wearing Patton’s dressing gown which neither suited him nor fit him. Really, the only things that betrayed that this man was Logan were the glasses and the tight-lipped frown.

“Roman, despite the fact that you go to sleep at unreasonable hours, there are people on the other side of that wall who do not. I count myself as one of them.”

“I woke you?”

“Yes. You woke me. And as Patton did not want to get up to tell you to be quiet, that is why I am here.”

“Logan, this is actually perfect. I needed someone to talk to!”

“I am not here to talk.”

“Then what do you call this? Get in here.”

“No.”

“Please?” Roman squeaked. “You’re my friend.”

Logan sighed and took a step in. “Very well, but I have responsibilities to take care of early in the morning and I will not be staying late.”

Roman shut the door as Logan took a seat at the table.

“So, what is it that requires discussion?”

Roman went over to the other chair and collapsed into it. He took a deep breath. “I have a crush on a guy-”

Logan stood up. “I will get Patton.”

“No! Sit!” He grabbed Logan’s arm. “Let him sleep.”

“I am the worst person you could have selected to help you in this area.”

“You have a boyfriend.”

“For reasons that still escape me.”

Roman gasped dramatically. “Logan, how could you say that about our perfect prince?”

“I am unsure of the reason  _ he _ chose  _ me. _ ”

“Then, how could you say that about his tastes?”

Logan rolled his eyes, already frustrated with the banter. “What was it that you wanted to speak about? Or am I free to return to Patton’s bed.”

“Oh.” Roman smiled and did a little dance. “Oh, I see. Not wearing much under that robe?”

Logan stood.

“No, no, sit. I need help.”

He groaned as he sat back down. “That is an understatement.”

Roman sighed. “So, I have feelings for this guy-”

“Who?”

“None of your business.” He didn’t want this getting to Patton yet. “So, I thought he was attractive before. But I didn’t want anything, just appreciated a gorgeous man-”

“You have upgraded him from attractive to gorgeous?”

“Shut up. Well, he’s taken so that’s all it could be. You know?”

“I comprehend the narrative if that is what you are asking.”

“Sure. So, you can imagine my surprise when he tells me he’s actually single.” Roman lifted his arms in a shrug and let his jaw drop. “Well, I was just so stunned. I may have...said some things to him that were...less than ideal. But now I know. He’s single. And I’m attracted to him. I have feelings for him- Logan, are you paying attention?”

He snapped his fingers in front of his friend, whose eyes had turned slightly glassy. Logan blinked a few times.

“Not that I am trying to appear unsympathetic to your plight, but it is past midnight.”

“I can’t have you falling asleep on me, Logan; I need you.”

“What exactly do you need help with? You seem to have to grasp on your feelings, which- I am told- is the difficult part.”

“Oh, who told you that? The mirror?”

Logan cleared his throat. “I fail to see a problem here.”

“Well, what do I do?” Roman whined.

“...what?” Logan asked. “If you have a grasp on your feelings, it would make sense to articulate them.”

“Just tell him?! I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Where’s the pining, the yearning, the drama?!”

Logan blinked at him a few times.

“...You have heard too many stories.”

Roman rolled his eyes and waved him off. “Besides, I don’t know how he feels about me, and I can’t risk rejection!”

“In that case, perhaps it would be wise to...what is the expression? Make a move?”

“Make a move?”

“Am I incorrect? Is the expression something else?”

“No, that’s the expression.” Where Logan heard that expression was beyond him. As far as Roman was concerned Logan was born reading about historical irrigation methods and only stopped for occasional fun: doing his taxes. How this man managed to woo a prince really baffled everyone. “You think I should make a move?”

“Yes. We just went over this, Roman. It is more cautious. Rather than outright confessing your attraction, you would drop hints that you are interested.”

He knew it was pointless, but Roman really wanted to know what Logan’s idea of dropping hints was. Whatever it was, it was going to be funny.

“Like what?” he gave in.

Logan seemed troubled by this. “...perhaps highlighting how long it has been since you last copulated-”

Roman choked on spit.

“-though, you have never copulated. I forgot-”

“Logan! We’re not gonna do that!”

“We?” Logan raised an eyebrow. “You dropping hints has nothing to do with me, unless of course, you are referring to the idea what  _ we _ copulate which I am not in favor of-”

Roman shrieked as his face burned.

“Quiet down. You’re going to wake Patton again.”

“Logan,” he said, turning his face away to hide just how red he was, “thank you. I don’t need your help anymore.”

“Good.”

“And I won’t be asking for your help ever again.”

“Good.” He stood up and headed to the door. “Good night.”

Roman waved, still not making eye contact as he was a tomato. “Night. Give Patton my love.”

The door closed and Roman left alone. He leaned back in his chair, the blush finally beginning to settle down. That damn nerd called him out for being a virgin! Really, what else could he have expected? Logan was not a romance expert. He decided then and there, the next time he asked Logan for advice would be tax season. Though maybe he could pay Patton to fluster Logan in public, that would be payback.

His mind wandered back to Logan’s suggestions, both the stupid ones and the less so. Could he do it? Could he hint at his feelings, he’d never been very subtle. Still, it was a better idea than just saying how he felt. Visions of Virgil passed through his mind.

He turned bright red again, as his brain bridged the two thoughts.

“Stop it!” he scolded himself. “Enough with the impure thoughts!”

Oh, he had it bad.

* * *

**18/10/29 The Eighteenth Day of the Tenth Month of the Twenty-Ninth Year of the Reign of King Thomas**

Staying at an ally’s stronghold for a day or two afforded the war bound prince several luxuries. His army was able to resupply and relax for a bit, which would work wonders for morale. But more than that, it was a warm bed, a hot bath, and a chance to dry out his boots. Janus was living for it.

His night of reading by the fireplace in his room was coming to a close as the words on the pages had begun to dance and he had spent almost half of an hour on one chapter. Clearly, his eyes were done. Janus shut the book and rose. Having already enjoyed a glorious hot bath, all he had left to do was put on his sleepwear.

It was late, well past midnight. He had to be up at the crack of dawn the next morning but he never needed more than five or so hours of sleep. If he was lucky, he might be able to get so much. Janus had never really been plagued by worries in the night before, there were times as a child, particularly when Patton was ill, but for the most part, he tended to fall asleep immediately. He had not been doing so for a while now.

Dressed, he headed over to the small windows in his room, which were more designed to keep in heat than allow him to see out. It was a bright night. The sky was clear and practically raining stars on him. From his position, he could just barely see the wolf constellation. He had to wonder if it was just as clear back home, or was it raining in the capital.

Janus turned away and moved to the bed. There was no point in worrying. He would get there, it may take almost a month but he was on his way.

He climbed under the warm furs and blankets and tried to get comfortable, monumental task though it was. Sleeping indoors was preferable in every way to his tent but it still wasn’t right.

He just wasn’t used to sleeping alone.

Janus tossed and turned back and forth. He had been sleeping alone for a while now, ever since Virgil disappeared but it hadn’t gotten easier. He had been sharing a bed every night for seven years. Longer even. He sighed, laying on his back, staring at the ceiling.

After a moment of resigned displeasure, Janus fell back on an old favorite trick. He sat up and pulled over a few spare pillows down under the covers next to him. He molded them into a shape that vaguely resembled a person and when he was satisfied, Janus held them. It wasn’t the same. No amount of pillows could ever really feel like a warm body lying next to him but it was all he had.

Well, that wasn’t totally true. If he wanted him, he could have had Remus. Janus rolled his eyes as the thought crossed his mind. Flirting with the man and inviting him to bed were two very different things. Flirting was harmless, the other, less so. No matter how much Remus wanted something more, he was not willing to give it and that was that.

No, he had to get thoughts of Remus out of his head. He needed room to imagine Virgil, back in his arms again. The prince smiled. And he hoped for good dreams.

* * *

**13/5/22 The Thirteenth Day of the Fifth Month of the Twenty-Second Year of the Reign of King Thomas**

_ The overthrow of Lord Herbert had gone astonishingly well. Only one or two minor setbacks which were instantly transformed into victories. No losses, all gains. And yet, Janus could not bring that up. Really, he couldn’t find the room to talk at all, the conversation was very one-sided. He had been sitting in their room listening for about an hour and could not get a single word in. _

_ There was only one person in this world that was allowed to lecture him. And, stars above, did he. _

_ “-I can’t even begin to talk about how stupid you were,” Virgil said, despite the fact that he had been talking for an hour. “This was a terrible idea to start with, it could have gone wrong a thousand different ways, and don’t think I won’t list them for you!” _

_ “Mh hm,” Janus interjected. The first thing he had said since this conversation began. _

_ “It was dangerous already going behind the back of the lord of the province. Especially this one! Executions every day and you decide, yeah, he’s the first one you wanna cross!” _

_ Virgil paced back and forth, doing loops around the room as Janus watched the circuit. _

_ “If Elliot was lying to you about the plan, you would have been dead. We both would have been, thanks for that by the way.” _

_ Janus finally stood up and headed over towards Virgil. Well, he waited for the next time the loop brought them together. _

_ “It could have gone so wrong. One mistake, one person gives the game away too early and we’d be dead. A month, we’d have made a  _ **_month_ ** _ since we left home!” _

_ Virgil passed him on that lap without even seeming to notice him. Janus reached out to grab him but was too late. He could get him on the next lap. _

_ “But that would have been bad enough, no you had to make it worse. Disguising yourself was a mistake and all you got out of it was a dramatic entrance, which I know you love, but it totally wasn’t worth dying for!” _

_ Janus grabbed a hold of Virgil’s wrist and halted him in his tracks. Virgil stopped lecturing, only for a second to glance down at his arm. Then his eyes wandered up to the prince. Janus gave him an innocent smile. _

_ Virgil rolled his eyes. “And then you had to antagonize him the whole time! Being an absolute dick about nothing. And sticking up for that prisoner who I know you didn’t give a shit about, don’t lie to me.” _

_ He pulled Virgil close and held him in a warm embrace. Virgil neither relaxed nor stopped bitching. _

_ “But since I’ve brought him up, let’s talk about your new best friend-” _

_ Janus tilted his head and placed a gentle kiss on his love’s lips. His chapped lips pressed against Virgil’s, his heart flew in his chest. _

_ “You almost got your throat slit by him but he’s sitting downstairs right now!” _

_ Well, that didn’t work. Let it not be said that the prince was a quitter, however. _

_ “A fucking bandit! You brought a fucking-” _

_ He kissed him again, pulling Virgil in closer, eager to eliminate any space between them. This time there was more fire. His grip on Virgil’s arm grew tighter, causing the skin to blanche. His lips lingered on him for a moment longer. He breathed in Virgil’s air for a moment of silence before his grip loosened and he pulled back to look at his fiance. _

_ “...You brought a fucking bandit in here! And we’re supposed to sleep knowing there’s a cutthroat just hanging out! You just had to offer him a job as your knight?! I swear on the sun, this going to backfire so hard-” _

_ Okay, that didn’t work, either. Third time’s the charm. _

_ Janus leaned in again only to be met by a finger between him and his destination. _

_ “I know what you’re doing. And you can’t just kiss me every time you want me to shut up.” _

_ He gave a small laugh. “Would I do something like that?” _

_ Virgil rolled his eyes. “I’m not done.” _

_ “Mm hmm.” _

_ Janus moved in, kissing down the side of Virgil’s face and onto his neck. _

_ “I’m still mad at you.” Virgil lifted his head up to give him a better angle. _

_ “Mm. Up,” Janus said, tapping Virgil’s thigh. Without a moment’s hesitation, Virgil jumped into his waiting arms. Janus lurched forward slightly, but caught his footing quickly and turned to carry Virgil to the bed. _

_ “The point is, I don’t like this new knight. He almost killed you. There is no way you can trust him.” _

_ “He didn’t.” _

_ Virgil gave him a glare as he was placed down. Janus smiled back. _

_ “...I hate you,” Virgil said. _

_ “Oh, I agree.” Janus began undoing the clasps on Virgil’s shirt. _

_ “Marriage to you is going to be torture.” _

_ “Non-stop.” _

_ Virgil sat up and grabbed Janus’s face, pulling him down on top of him. His breath hitched and his face grew burning hot. Their lips pressed together and they opened their mouths. Their tongues danced, exploring each other’s mouths. The kiss broke only for a moment before they returned, eager for more. Virgil wrapped his legs around Janus, pulling him even closer. The warm taste of a weak wine still lingered in Janus’s mouth. Janus let his hands wander Virgil’s sides, as if he was trying to absorb every detail. _

_ Their lips parted. Virgil loosened his grip and smiled. Half of a giggle escaped his lips as he ran his hand down the side of Janus’s face. _

_ “I love you,” he whispered. _

_ Janus smiled back. “...Do I even have to say it?” _

_ Virgil let go. He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh shut up. I take it back, I hate you.” _

_ “Oh, I’m sure you do.” Janus chuckled. He started to climb off of Virgil. “I can go-” _

_ He was, however, trapped by Virgil’s legs again. Janus turned his gaze back to his fiance. A smile crossed his lips as he bent down to kiss Virgil yet again. _


	6. Roman Talks to the Sky

**21/10/29 The Twenty-First Day of the Tenth Month of the Twenty-Ninth Year of the Reign of King Thomas**

With a cool breeze flowing into his room, Roman sat inside the window frame. The sun had finally dimmed enough for certain strong stars to begin to reveal themselves. It wasn’t the warmest night, so he had no desire to sit outside and absorb the view. Roman sat leaned up against the solid walls wearing only comfortable clothes and no shoes. It was the beginning of his time to relax for the evening, Patton had sent him away so he could have some alone time with Logan, something that Roman was noticing was happening more and more lately. Not too long ago, he would have minded much more. Patton and Logan used to be his only friends. But that wasn’t true anymore.

He smiled at the thought of Virgil. He really enjoyed his company. Maybe it was Virgil being attractive, maybe it was talking about things he had never really spoken about, or maybe it was a combination of them both. Still, in all his wonderful evenings with Virgil, there was one relationship he had neglected of late. And as the tail of the Wolf came into view above him, he sought to correct it.

Roman held up his hand to the skyline and extended three fingers. He squinted to find just the star he was looking for but it was far too bright to see it. Still, he knew it was there. He knew she was there.

“Hi, Mama,” he said. “It’s been a while. I’m sorry. I’ve just been so busy. But that’s no excuse, I know. I should always make time for you.”

He smiled. “So, I should tell you what’s new. It’s been about a month since we last talked. Patton’s been good, I know you worry about him. He’s actually been running the kingdom for a little while now. His father’s away, so it’s just him.”

He decided not to mention how much this was stressing Patton out, and how much he was afraid of doing something wrong. There was no point in worrying her.

“And he’s doing a great job. Anything he doesn’t know, he goes to Logan for. Logan’s doing good, too. Still, teasing me but he can take it. About a week and a half ago, I listened to him lecture about grain silos for six hours. I didn’t understand a word of it but he knows what he’s talking about.”

Roman turned his gaze down slightly, biting his lip as he danced around what he really wanted to say.

“In all honesty, I haven’t been seeing them as much as usual, lately. They’re still my best friends, don’t worry, but they’ve been busy too and...I met someone.”

A warm glow began to build in his cheeks. This was what he had been looking forward to telling her all about.

“His name is Virgil. He’s a lord. Of House Stormbound...yeah, I hadn’t heard of it either. He lost his parents too—well, I know you’re not _lost_ , but...you know.”

He swallowed the awkwardness. “We’ve been talking a lot. I’m getting off track; I haven’t even told you how we met yet. He punched me...yes, again.”

Roman laughed.

“He thought I was Remus. Oh! And Remus is doing alright. I haven’t seen him but Virgil has. He was at Remus’s execution, don’t worry, he’s fine.”

Roman bowed his head and began to pick at his nails. “I know…I know. I’m sorry, Remus and I separated...seems I say that every time I talk to you...I’m sorry, Mama.”

He lifted his head back up. “But I came to tell you about Virgil! We’ve been talking about you! I told him some of your stories. Sir Squiggles the Brave! He liked it. It made him feel better...And it made me happy to tell it. I hope I remembered it right. I hope I did it justice. We like talking about you, and Papa, and his parents. I told him about this, our talks. He said he’ll try it.”

Roman felt the words he was really getting at bubbling in his throat. His face grew hot. “There’s more. He’s not just a new friend. I mean, I would tell you about him even if he was just a new friend but—he’s different. I like him. Like, I _really_ like him.”

In his mind, he could almost see the soft smile spreading across his mother’s face at that revelation.

“He’s beautiful, Mama. Hair as black as a stormy night, eyes the color of the richest earth. Every time I look at him it’s like my heart’s a songbird just fluttering and beating against the sides of its cage.”

His mama would have liked that description. It was just like something she would have told him.

Roman sniffled. “And we can talk for hours. It’s nice...to have someone who understands what it’s like. I mean, I love Patton and Logan but…”

He shook his head. The words weren’t sounding as clear, anymore. It was all slightly congested and nasal. “It’s just not the same. Virgil’s been through a lot, more than I have. He was engaged, actually, until recently. You’re not going to believe this, but he was engaged to Patton’s brother...I know! Well, they aren’t together anymore. He didn’t tell me why; it’s a touchy subject. But he’s single...I know, I know, I should tell him. You sound just like Logan. But I can’t yet. I don’t know how he feels about me...you’re right, Mama, what’s not to like?”

He chuckled.

“But not yet.”

Roman’s gaze lowered as he sniffled again. He looked back up at that star, still totally unable to properly see it. “He makes me happy, Mama. More than that, I wanna feel this happy all the time.”

He grabbed his sides. The statement should have given him some sort of relief to say aloud but it didn’t. He only felt the pressure continue to build. Roman gripped himself tighter as the first tear finally fell.

“I wish you could meet him.” The floodgates opened and Roman was weeping. “I miss you, Mama. It just doesn’t seem right, living my life, having all these good things happen to me—my life is **_so_ ** good—but you’re not here to see it. I know you’re proud of me, I know. But I just wanna hear you say it. I miss your voice so much. I love you.”

He smiled, amidst all his tears. “I love you, Mama.”

Roman wiped his eyes. “I should have talked to you sooner, I knew I was gonna cry. Take care, Mama. I’ll be back. Sooner next time, I promise.”

He waited. He waited for some kind of sign from that little star. Nothing came, and he just had to tell himself she understood.

Roman sighed, wiping the tears from his eyes yet again. Since he was already crying he might as well do something else he had been putting off. So, he looked back up at that star and put a big smile on, it didn’t matter that it wasn’t real.

“Hi, Papa. I know I don’t talk to you as much. That doesn’t mean I don’t love you as much. I just don’t really know what you look like, or what you sound like. But I love you. And I miss you, too. You take care of her, okay, Papa? I’ll be okay.”

He looked down and gripped his sides so hard they began to turn white. “I’ll be okay.”

Roman sat in complete silence for a moment, no sounds but his own breathing. Then he turned his gaze back to the star. “Bye, Mama. Bye, Papa. I’ll talk to you soon.”

And just like that, it was over. But he didn’t feel any better. He should have seen it coming, it had been far too long since he had spoken to them and he had far too much to say. He didn’t even get to mention it all before he fell apart. There was a heavy weight in his chest, pressing down on him. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was sorrow. It didn’t really matter. It felt no better either way.

Roman’s eyes widened. He knew just the cure that would make his heart soar. Immediately, he jumped to his feet off the windowsill. Not even bothering to put on shoes, he headed to the door, hesitating for a moment before fixing his hair. His face was probably blotchy from crying too, great just what he needed.

He exhaled hard. Nothing he could do about it, so Roman left his room and hurried down the hall. There was a moment of apprehension as he found himself stood before Virgil’s door. Only a moment. Then, Roman knocked on the door and barged in.

Virgil was sitting with a book in his hands. Without even looking up he sighed. “I can always tell it’s you cause you never wait for a ‘come in’ before you come in.”

He put the book down. Roman’s heart was already pounding. Virgil looked up then leaned back slightly, eyebrows raised. Roman apparently looked worse than he thought he did. Wonderful.

“You okay? You’ve got a lot of…” Virgil gestured to his face. “...red.”

“I was talking to Mama,” Roman choked back his own tears again. 

“Oh.” Virgil shifted in his seat. “Wanna talk about it?”

He nodded, cautiously. Roman _did_ want to talk about it, to get those feelings out, and to have someone he cared for being there for comfort.

“Well, get in here.”

Roman shut the door and took a seat. He found his face only growing hotter as he was but a foot away from Virgil. Something about being so close to him made his sadness begin to melt away and instead he was left with a knot in his stomach. This was the first time Virgil had ever seen him upset. Sure, he had gotten emotional before during some of their chats but this was different. Would Virgil think less of him? He absolutely prided himself on being strong and the heroes in the stories never cried, save for maybe a single stoic tear when in dire straits. What had he been thinking? His need to feel better wasn’t worth Virgil thinking he was a wuss!

“...So,” Virgil said, “what do you wanna talk about?”

The first question and he already didn’t have an answer, wow, this was going to be a disaster. Why did he come? It was such a stupid idea.

He shrugged.

“You were the one who said you wanted to talk about it.”

“I don’t _know_ ,” Roman defended, his voice almost cracked but it didn’t quite. He sighed and pulled up into his legs. “I’m just emotional tonight.”

“That’s a start. About?”

Roman turned his gaze away. It would be easier to talk if he wasn’t staring into those deep dark eyes. “I just miss her. She died when I was fourteen. I haven’t heard her voice in so long...I think I might be forgetting it.”

“...Yeah. I’ve been there.”

Roman nodded. There was more he could say about that, about how he wanted to hear what she thought about what he was doing, about how he guessed what she felt about his friends (he had no doubts she would love and worry about Patton) but he had no guesses for how she would feel about Virgil. He had never felt like that about anyone when she was alive. He’d never felt like that, ever. It was all uncharted waters and he couldn’t go to her for advice.

“I just wish I knew what she’d think.”

“Of?”

“Stuff.” Roman sighed, breathing heavy breaths into his knees. Scarce remaining teardrops trickled down onto his pants. “It’s not fair...when people die young.”

Virgil sighed. “Yeah, I know. Stars above, I know.”

“You know, at Mama’s funeral, someone told me ‘at least she died beautiful.’” Roman scoffed. “I was...so angry. Have you ever heard anything so stupid? There’s nothing beautiful about dying young.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever been told that one. ‘Course, I don’t think anyone with eyes would call how my parents died ‘beautiful.’”

Roman turned. Virgil had not told him what specifically had happened. Sure, he knew Virgil’s parents were murdered, but how they actually died, Virgil had never mentioned. “How did they die?”

Virgil looked directly at him. His expression was changed, not angry, but definitely surprised. “They were murdered.”

“I know, but…”

Virgil sighed.

“Never mind, forget I-”

“No,” Virgil said, “it’s fine. If you wanna know, you tell me, I tell you, okay?”

Roman nodded. He hadn’t expected to get this story out of Virgil quite so easily and was interested to hear it. Part of it had to be morbid curiosity, but another part was wondering what had Virgil lived through. “Mama was sick. There were no doctors nearby, so by the time they got there, it was too late. And Papa died when we were a month old, a tree fell on him.”

He looked for anything new in Virgil’s face, any indication of what he thought. 

“Damn,” Virgil said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. What about you?”

Virgil leaned back in his chair. “It’s kinda complicated why it happened. But to make a long story short, a member of my family’s house wanted to be in charge and didn’t want to wait. So, he and a group of mercenaries came to the manor and killed everyone inside.” His dark eyes cast down. “Ran them through...right in front of me.”

Roman wanted to say something but found his words escaping him for a moment. Virgil watched? He had watched his parents die? He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, it was going to be a traumatic story no matter what, but that was somehow worse. He hadn’t been prepared for that. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Virgil’s gaze traveled to somewhere Roman couldn’t follow. “Sometimes, if I close my eyes, I can still see it...see them, bleeding out on the floor.”

“You deserve so much better.” The words tumbled out of Roman’s mouth before his nerves could stop them. But as soon as they did his face turned hot as the sun.

That brought Virgil’s gaze back. “What?”

“I mean, no one deserves to see that, or live with that.” He scrambled to cover his lovestruck tracks. It wasn’t what he meant, but it wasn’t untrue. “Thank you—for telling me.”

“Oh, yeah well,” Virgil stuttered, “you too. Sorry, you had to go through that.”

The room grew quiet as Roman tried to hide his redness. Virgil also turned away.

“...You feeling better?” Virgil asked, after a long moment.

“Oh, yeah. I-I am.” He hadn’t even noticed he’d stopped crying. That really was the power of being with Virgil. It was so easy when he was with him. So easy to feel better. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“No, you did. Thank you.”

Roman cautiously turned back to look at Virgil. Virgil did the same. Feeling his pulse jolt Roman immediately shot his gaze down to the ground and failed to see Virgil do the same thing.

“Well,” Virgil said, “if that helped then, I guess I could help again. If-if you need it.” He was trying so hard to sound relaxed and failing. Fortunately, he was talking to Roman, not an expert in subtlety.

“Thank you,” Roman said and in his heart of hearts, he meant it. He tried to hide a smile behind his hand as he looked to Virgil. Virgil made him feel so happy. It was like he was riding a kindness high every time he saw him. He was happy.

So, there was no way she wouldn’t love Virgil too.

His smile grew as the realization came to him. His mother would love anyone who could make Roman feel that good. His previous doubt seemed so stupid now. How could he have ever thought otherwise?

“Would your parents have liked me?” Roman said. He barely realized it as the words fell out of his mouth. That was not something he had meant to say. Sure, he had wondered but he wasn’t about to just _ask_!

Virgil seemed a little startled by the sudden question. “Where did that come from?”

“I was just wondering.” He tried to play it casual, make it sound like he didn’t really care but that could not have been further from the truth. The idea that Virgil’s parents would have hated him, would have wanted him to stay away, was too difficult a thought to bear.

“Okay.” He sounded a bit suspicious, but Virgil paused and took a deep breath. “...Dad would have liked you.”

Roman found himself suddenly able to breathe again, despite the fact he failed to notice he had stopped breathing.

“He always just wanted me to be happy.”

Roman made Virgil happy. He made Virgil happy! It was such a simple thing but hearing it set his heart on fire.

“Mom…” Virgil’s voice lowered and he paused.

Roman was sweating bullets. Why was he deliberating? What was he thinking?

“...Mom would have come around.”

Roman’s heart sank. She would have come around? All that meant was she wouldn’t have liked him. She would have hated him. She wouldn’t have wanted him near Virgil.

Roman curled up on himself a bit. “Oh.”

Virgil took a deep breath as he looked away, contemplating something. “It’s just…”

Why wouldn’t she like him? Every single thing Roman had ever considered a fault of his ran through his head, every mistake, every failure.

Virgil turned to look at Roman, his eyes locked on Roman’s face. A small reassuring smile spread across his lips for a moment before vanishing. He broke eye contact and looked down at the floor. “It’s just she really liked Janus.”

* * *

**22/10/29 The Twenty-Second Day of the Tenth Month of the Twenty-Ninth Year of the Reign of King Thomas**

The prince burst into the war tent without announcing his presence. He interrupted his advisors as they stood around the table. Remy had yet to report back to him on what his advisors were doing so he didn’t know what they were up to, therefore, he no longer knocked. It didn’t appear as though he had interrupted anything secretive though. In fact, the circle was not entirely there. Remus wasn’t there, something that probably should have worried him, but he didn’t really care. The man in orange was nowhere to be seen. That just left the witch and the bitch really.

Deanna, or as most people dared to refer to her: the Dragon Witch, stood over the map laid on the table. She was as intimidating as they came, an enormous magical woman with monstrous horns that made her almost seven feet tall. Her role in the prince’s court was managing his soldiers, not a hard task when the mere sight of her was known to send people fleeing for their lives. Her face was littered with scars given to her by the people who just didn’t run fast enough. Percy was not looking so intimidating. He was a small man, even smaller than Janus. He wore nothing but pretty magenta clothes and kept his hair in a long ponytail. Appearances, however, could be deceiving as Percy possessed the highest kill count in that room. He was sitting on the table, sipping a glass of wine.

“Someone,” Janus said, “give me good news or alcohol.”

Percy looked down at his glass and then outstretched it.

Janus gave him a deadpanned glare. “...Seriously?”

“Get that out of his face, we have good news.”

“Thank you.” Janus approached the table. “Where is everyone?”  
Percy shrugged and sipped his wine.

That wasn’t a good sign. Janus could only hope that Remy knew where they were as there was an infinite amount of trouble that they could be getting into.

“Thank you for that insight, Percy. Thank the heavens I have such wonderfully competent advisors,” he said in his most gracious tone, a tone he never used to tell the truth.

Percy retreated into his wine with a small eye roll.

Janus sighed. “What is the good news?”

Deanna stood up straight and only towered over them more. “Morale is very high. At every town we stop we gain more soldiers. The people are jumping at the chance to aid their future king.”

“The people?” Janus cocked an eyebrow. “You mean, the people of the North. Wouldn’t you say there’s a bit of a difference there?”

“Of course, your highness. But you do have unwavering loyalty here. They are all on board for this rescue mission, but they want you to take the throne too.”

“One step at a time.” Janus smiled. He was pleased with the loyalty he had amassed but he was going to need more if he wanted the throne. And he _did_ want the throne. But that would have to wait, they had other, more important, things to do.

He turned his attention to Percy. “Anything to offer?”

“Besides the wine?” A smile spread across his face. “Well, I suppose there is the fact that we haven’t been found out yet. We’ve run into a few scouts from the capital but none of them have reported back about us. So, right now, the palace is unaware of our journey, and our army.”

Janus nodded. The less he knew about what happened to those scouts the better. Percy was an unassuming man but he was about as sweet as a refreshing glass of poison. “Good. Very good.”

“Really, you could not have chosen a better time for this. Even if we were found out, it’s not like Prince Patton would even know what to do. Of course, I will make sure a few scouts make it to tell them, just with enough time to roll out the red carpet for us. I mean, after all, you have to be greeted like the royalty you are.”

“How much notice do you plan to give them?” Janus asked, totally ignoring the attempts at flattery.

“About a week.”

“And we should arrive in two,” Deanna interjected.

“Good.” There was something about the idea that he could home in two weeks that sent Janus’s heartbeat racing, in some mix of excitement and fear. Something he dared not show his advisors. “Then, I will take my leave.”

“Wait,” Percy spoke up.”

Janus stopped in his tracks. The two advisors exchanged glances, an unspoken conversation occurred. That also wasn’t a good sign.

“Remus was talking to us earlier,” Percy said.

Oh dear. Janus had learned over the years that any statement that started with those words was bound to cause trouble for him. Really, in general, Remus was bound to cause trouble for him. He would have dropped the man ages ago were he not a willing weapon ready to kill anyone Janus pointed him at.

“Oh of course,” Janus sassed, his sarcasm always intensified when he was worried, “because you can always believe everything Remus tells you.”

“That’s why we’re making sure,” Deanna said.

Janus crossed his arms. “Well, go ahead. What did he say this time?”

“He said you were only going after Virgil to get the support of the South.”

“...Okay.”

“Is that true?” Percy asked.

Janus’s gaze lowered into a menacing glare. “Does it matter?”

“What?” Deanna said.

“Deanna,” he turned, “since you’re so invested in morale, why do the people think I’m doing this?”

“...They think you want Virgil back because you love him.”

“Precisely. That’s all that matters. That they **_think_ ** that. It doesn’t have to be true. And you don’t need to worry about whether or not it is. Worry about whether or not it’s believed. Truth is completely irrelevant to this discussion. Understand that?”

The two advisors exchanged a glance again. Janus always had to be careful when dealing with these people. He couldn’t tip his hand. Sure, they were on his side, they worked for him, but their loyalty to each of their respective previous employers had proved tenuous. And they were the last people he was going to reveal his weakness to.

“...Understood,” Deanna said.

“Understood,” Percy said.

“Good.” Janus turned and headed out in the night.

He couldn’t allow them to know how he felt about Virgil, no one could. That information was between him and Virgil, alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the Printer from that one short video is now in this. There aren't a lot of characters in this fandom.


	7. Runaway

**28/10/29 The Twenty-Eighth Day of the Tenth Month of the Twenty-Ninth Year of the Reign of King Thomas**

Roman found himself growing tired of his room. For an entire week, he had spent his quiet evenings alone in the room with amusement scarce to be found. He had, of course, performed his duties, guarded Patton throughout the days, but the nights were supposed to be the time where he could enjoy himself. And Roman no longer found enjoyment in sitting alone in his room with only the light of the stars to keep him company.

He knew what he wanted. He wanted to be with Virgil. And, in truth, Roman had found himself at Virgil’s door many a night that week, but when he raised his hand to knock his insecurities made him turn away and return to his private cage. What could he really say to Virgil?

With his head heavy lying against the table as he sat, Roman had to wonder why he cared so much what Virgil’s mother would have thought of him. Virgil seemed to enjoy his company, why should anything else matter? Yet, he longed for an approval he could never receive from a person he had never met.

Roman picked his head up and leaned on his arms. It wasn’t fair. He loved speaking with Virgil. He loved their time together. He even loved Virgil’s endless stream of sarcasm. Virgil had never cared where Roman came from, just enjoyed their time. So, why did he feel like he wasn’t good enough?

That was why his week alone had been complete misery. It had been hearing it for the first time, but he had always known; he was being compared. For the first in his life he wasn’t being compared to Remus, but he was being compared.

Roman stood up eager to pace off his energy as he thought. He knew nothing about Prince Janus and no one would talk to him about him! He had no idea what standard he was going to be held to. He had no idea if he would ever be good enough for Virgil.

And the voice in his head was screaming that he would never be. That he and Virgil came from different worlds. Virgil’s ex was a prince, all Roman had to offer was himself. How could that ever be good enough?

But if he closed his eyes, he could see Virgil’s hands as he pushed his hair away from this face, or that shy smile he did when he still wanted to act tough. It was memories like that that made his heart feel like a volcano, burning, and boiling, threatening to explode. It wasn’t fair.

He sighed. Roman needed to talk this out with someone. He needed Logan or Patton, they would understand. They had to.

There was a knock at the door.

It seemed as though he wouldn’t need to go looking for them. That was lucky.

“Come in.”

The door opened and he no longer felt quite so secure in his luck. Virgil stepped into Roman’s room, for the first time, and looked more amazing than ever. Black leather boots led up to black trousers that fit him perfectly. His shirt was loose, a dark violet with black ruffles down the front and on the sleeves, a belt cinched it at his waist, and it drooped just low even to reveal a hint of his defined collarbone which sent Roman gasping for air. His head cleared of all his thoughts and insecurities completely as he looked at him and he was left with just the pounding of his heart.

“Look,” Virgil snapped, “if you don’t wanna see me anymore, that’s fine. I’d just like to know.”

“What?!” Roman’s brain had barely turned back on in time to process that. Not see him anymore? There was nothing he was enjoying more than seeing Virgil, especially in that outfit.

“It’s fine if you don’t wanna talk anymore, or whatever. Just a heads up would have been nice.” Virgil gripped his sides and turned his gaze down to the ground, avoiding Roman’s eyes.

Roman took a step closer, his heartbeat only booming louder in his ears with every inch. “Virgil...what makes you think that?”

Virgil’s eyes flashed back up to Roman. “You haven’t come to my room in a week when you used to come every day. What other answer is there?”

He had to play this cool, be calm, be suave even if he was freaking out on the inside. While he may have been a young stupid yearning gay, he was a knight, first and foremost. He could let the shining armor of his smile hide away all his doubts, as a knight, he had to fix the injustice he had done to Virgil. And there was only one way they ever did that in the stories.

Roman moved up to him until there were only inches between them. Virgil uncrossed his arms and gazed at Roman with a curious confusion. Roman smiled and took Virgil’s hand in his. Virgil’s hand was small and soft, and it was clammy but so was Roman’s. For a long moment, neither of them breathed.

Roman lifted Virgil’s hand a bit, to about the height of his chest. His thumb ran over Virgil’s fingers and paused at a signet ring bearing a crest with a spider at its center. That was the ring that had left a small scar on his face.

“I am sorry I upset you,” Roman said. “I do not want to stop seeing you. Far from it.”

A slight smile just barely lifting the corners of Virgil’s mouth empowered him a little. So, it was time to make a move.

He raised Virgil’s hand to his mouth and placed upon it a single, gentle kiss. Though his lips only grazed against Virgil’s skin for a moment, he, literally, could not stop the smile that washed over his face and his pulse was so fast he felt like he might explode. He found himself wondering how his lips might feel pressed against that bit of exposed collarbone. Or, though it was a daunting, terrifying thought, how it might feel to kiss Virgil’s lips.

He released Virgil’s hand for fear his excitement might get the better of him and he would crush it.

Virgil only barely smiled but he could not control how his face darkened with blush. He quickly turned away. “Okay...then why did you?”

“I, well, I thought...that you…” Shit! What could he say? That he had feelings for him and was terrified he wasn’t good enough?! Not only would that have sounded so stupid to say out loud but he was about to disclose that.

“Oh. So we’re both stupid,” Virgil deadpanned.

Roman nodded, more ashamed than he was before. While that explanation wasn’t quite the reason why, it wasn’t incorrect either.

Virgil sighed. He looked to the door, then back at Roman. “You wanna get out of here?”

Nothing would bring Roman greater joy. “Your room?”

He scoffed. “I feel like I haven’t left in a month, no, let’s go somewhere.”

Virgil was leaving his room? That was new. 

“Anywhere in particular?”

Virgil paused for a moment. He smiled. “Yeah, I know a place.”

“Let’s go. Should I bring anything?” He probably wasn’t going to be asked to pay for dinner or anything. Virgil was a lord, and Roman was only paid so well. Still, it didn’t hurt to ask.

“Just some good boots and a decent cloak. It might be wet.”

Roman’s brow furrowed. What? Where were they going?

* * *

In Roman’s tenure as Patton’s personal protector, he had attempted to explore every bit of the palace grounds. That apparently didn’t stop him from missing a spot. Led hand in hand by Virgil through dark passages and secret exits he had never known about, they snuck around the palace, avoiding all people until they made it to the royal gardens. He didn’t vocalize his confusion at their route as they had traveled it but his confusion was great. Roman had been to the royal gardens thousands of times but he had never taken such a bizarre path.

The gardens were a sprawling sight, composed of three main areas, the flower garden which bloomed year-round with different blossoms in a rainbow of colors, the forest which was far more controlled than any natural forest with well-maintained paths and logic to every single tree and its placement, and, lastly, there was the hedge maze. Roman had never attempted the hedge maze, Patton did not tend to go on walks if it could be avoided, so he never needed to go there, and his terrible sense of direction encouraged him not to attempt it on his own. But that was where Virgil led him.

“Virgil, mind telling me why we avoided every person we could have passed?”

“You wanna get caught, that’s on you.”

“Caught? Are we doing something bad?”

Virgil turned around to give him a confused look. “If you’re fifteen, then yeah. Pretty sure we’re both adults, though.”

“Then why would we get caught?”

“...It’s just a habit..”

“What?” Roman asked as he pulled further into the maze.

There was no sound in the night but their boots as they trudged through and the wind that whistled through the shrubs. It was a bright night so they could see each other plainly with the cosmos shining down on them. Roman could only hope Virgil knew where he was going.

“When we were teenagers,” Virgil began, “we used to sneak out and come here. Actually, first, we’d steal a bottle of wine and then we’d come here.”

“Wait, does that ‘we’ include Patton?” He had a hard time imagining Patton even wanting to sneak out and drink, let alone doing it.

“Yeah. Him...Janus and I.”

And that was only the second time Roman had heard Virgil say the name. It sent chills down Roman’s spine.

“Course, Patton didn’t really drink,” Virgil continued. “Really it was just Janus. He always liked wine.”

Virgil was talking about Janus. Virgil was _talking_ about _Janus_! Not so long ago, he had jumped down Roman’s throat for mentioning him and now he was just casually saying his name like it was nothing?

“Hold on.” Roman stopped in his tracks, and Virgil turned around. “You suddenly wanna talk about it?”

“...I guess so.”

“Why?”

Virgil gave a tiny smirk. “...It doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

Before Roman could really think through that comment, he was tugged along.

“Come on, we’re close.”

Virgil led them to a dead-end and even though Roman could tell it was a dead-end from ten feet away, Virgil walked right up to the edge. He let go of Roman’s hand and only then did he realize just how much he had enjoyed Virgil holding it.

“Wait what are we-”

Virgil dropped to the ground and took a knife out of his pocket. He started cutting back some branches. “We’re going under, pretty boy.”

Holy shit. Virgil called him pretty. Those two simple words managed to paralyze Roman and by the time he returned to the land of the living, Virgil had managed to cut a decent hole in the hedge and was beginning to slide under.

Shaking back to consciousness, Roman knelt down. “Hold on, why?”

He angled his head to see under as Virgil made it to the other side. He couldn’t see much of anything, just grass, and Virgil’s boots.

“Are you coming?” the other man called.

Roman shrugged and dropped the ground and started crawling. It was slightly damp; it had rained a lot that week, and Virgil had cut out a Virgil-sized hole which was definitely too small for Roman. His hair got caught on brambles and he swore he felt something crawling on him but Roman made it to the other side. He brushed himself off and looked at where they had ended up.

They were on a hillside, covered in grass and wildflowers that covered all they could see in violet and red. Beneath them was a dark forest, natural and untamed, seeming stretching out forever, pitch black in the night. Above them, galaxies danced in spilled stardust, burning bright with the light of millions of stars. Purples and blues blended in awe-inspiring fashion forming nebulas that the light of the city usually drowned. Roman was enraptured, his breath escaping him. He had not seen the glittering graveyard in such a fashion since before he came to the palace.

“Wow,” he muttered, unable to find any words that would do the sight before him any sort of justice.

Virgil sat down on the grass next to him. “This is the best stargazing spot there is, hands down.”  
Roman sat down not taking his eyes off the sky for a moment. “By the sun’s mighty glow, why didn’t we come here sooner?”

A corner of Virgil’s mouth turned up and he looked down at his hands. “The three of us were the only people who knew about this place...until tonight.”

He finally pried his eyes away from the stars and Roman found himself enraptured by a different beauty. “Thank you,” he said, and it was all he could say. What else could he say as he looked into Virgil’s dark eyes while they reflected the stars. This was the most beautiful thing someone had ever done for him, and, in that moment, words were useless to him. Yet in spite of that, he had one question: why had Virgil chosen to share this place with him? He didn’t dare hope that Virgil thought of him as more than a friend but the thought crossed his mind.

Really, he had so many questions about Virgil, about Janus, about their relationship, and about his own relationship with Virgil.

“So…” he began, “you used to come here with them? What was that like?”

Virgil plopped down on the grass. “It was fun. I was fourteen when we started. We were weird kids who had to deal with a lot of shit, so it was nice. Just to sneak out and act stupid. We felt...normal for once.”

Ironic that Roman had never wanted anything more than to _not_ be quite so normal. However, he had to admit, after Virgil’s childhood normal must have sounded pretty nice.

“The entire royal family was just able to sneak out...with no problems?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think about it much at the time but I think Thomas knew we were doing it, and chose not to stop us. We were weird kids. I’m sure us sneaking out was the easiest problem for him to handle.”

Roman nodded. He had really only spoken to King Thomas once but based on that, he could believe Thomas would do that. Plus, it couldn’t have been easy, three teenage boys and only one him. Roman’s mama could never keep the two of them under control, granted one of them was Remus.

“I bet,” Roman said. He looked down the grass where Virgil laid. He didn’t understand it. Virgil was telling him the things he had ached to know but he had no idea why. “...why...why are you…”

Virgil sat up and looked him in his eyes.

“Why tell me?” Roman said.

“ _Sorry_ , thought you’d wanna know,” Virgil sassed.

“I do!” Roman rushed to correct. “It’s just why now? You didn’t use to want to mention him…”

Virgil sighed. He turned his head away and to the sky, directly to the spider constellation. The wind rustled the grass and freed Virgil’s hair from his face. “...I’ve missed him, okay? I’ve been engaged to him for twenty-one years. I’m twenty-three. Yeah, I fucking missed him.”

Roman’s face didn’t move, but his heart was in his stomach.

“...But I don’t miss him anymore, okay? And that’s where I’m leaving that.”

He missed him. Virgil missed Janus. It made sense to Roman. For fuck’s sake, he even had days where he missed _Remus_. But there were questions he still had.

“Okay,” Roman said. He paused. “...Can I ask you one more question?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Was ‘that’s where I’m leaving that’ too vague for you?” He groaned. “Fine. But I get to ask you two questions first, deal?”

“Deal,” Roman said. Not a question about feelings. Not a question about feelings. Not a question about feelings. Roman was not a good liar and was not ready to face that.

Virgil leaned forward and hugged his knees as he thought. “...hmm...How’d you end up Patton’s knight?”

Roman gave an audible sigh of relief. That was an easy question.

“Well, you see,” he began in his storytelling voice, “after my stint with the Ironshade Mercenary Company-”

“Hold on, you were a mercenary?”

“For a bit.” That was an entirely different story that he did not have the time to get into. “Anyways, after I left, I wandered the countryside as a Knight Errant, helping the helpless, saving the distressed, righting wrongs, and never asking for anything in exchange-”

“Bet that paid well,” Virgil deadpanned.

It paid terribly. Roman had slept in trees and on the side of the road for a couple of years.

“Well, on one of the rare days I was in a town with enough money to be at the tavern, it caught fire. Smoke was everywhere, people were scrambling running to get out. I saw a man, who wasn’t running anywhere. I didn’t stop to think why, I just grabbed him and got him out of there. It was once we were outside and I was given a very harsh introduction to a group of soldiers that I learned the man I was carrying was the crown prince. I, _me_ , I was nearly arrested for attempted kidnapping. Fortunately, Patton spoke up for me. We talked for a bit. He offered me a job at the palace as a thank you.”

“As a knight?”

“No, actually, as a city guard.” Roman’s gaze wandered off. “Oh, it was terrible. Worst job I ever had. The people loved me. The other guards...not so much.”

“Why?”

Roman crossed his arms. The guards' animosity towards him _totally_ didn’t bother him anymore, no, not at all. “Apparently, going solo and doing what you think is right is not in a guard’s job description. After about a week of that, I think they had had enough and appealed to someone high up to get rid of me. I did let a lot of petty crime go unpunished since I don’t think stealing food for your family is a crime, but anyways. When I was called into the palace, I knew I was getting fired. But then I wasn’t sent to the guard captain, I wasn’t even sent to an office. I was brought into a sitting room and told to wait. At that point, I had no idea what was going on. Then the door opened...and it was the king. My first thought was ‘am I that bad a guard that they had to get the king to fire me?’”

Virgil stifled a laugh, and Roman smiled.

“But no. He thanked me for saving Patton, called me a good man. And that was when he offered the job of becoming Patton’s personal knight. I may have shrieked...in his face...it was undignified. I took the job, and I’ve been here ever since.”

“Wow,” Virgil said, “not everyone gets to meet Thomas.”

“Yeah, not everyone gets to call him ‘Thomas.’”

Virgil nodded. “Fair.” He turned to Roman with a smile that took Roman’s heart for a joyride. “Okay, second question time.”

Roman’s breath hitched. He had gotten off easy on the first one, could he go two for two?

Virgil’s gaze cast down and he curled up on himself. He was silent for longer than Roman was comfortable with. Finally, after a deafening quiet, he blurted out, “would your mom have liked me?”

Roman’s eyes widened and he jolted back. “Yes!” he was practically jumping to answer, “yes, of course.”

The suddenness of the answer caused Virgil to jump. “Okay geez.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to yell.”

“It’s fine. I wasn’t scared,” he lied.

“It’s just…” Roman looked up to the sky and scanned over the cosmos until his eyes found the tail of the wolf. “I know she’d love you.”

He immediately wanted to take those words back as that was too much, way too much, bros don’t do that. But regardless, it was the truth.

“You know?” Virgil asked. “I mean, you can’t actually know.”

“I do. I asked her.”

“She answered?” Virgil sounded very incredulous.

“In her own way.”

Virgil sighed and looked away but Roman could see a smile on his face. “Fine. Thanks.”

Staring at that hidden smile, that glimmer of relief he tried to hide, Roman found his own soul was singing. A month ago, he never could have imagined the mysterious stranger that had wandered into his life would make him feel like this. There were almost no words for it. His entire chest ached because his heart was pounding so fast. His thoughts were almost incoherent, he was so smitten. His palms were sweaty. He was shaking. And he was happiest he had ever been in his entire life. 

The stories had nothing on this moment. If he had ever experienced magic, this was it.

“...okay, so like don’t drag this out just ask your damn question!” Virgil turned back to look at Roman. He was also shaking but Roman did not assume it was for the same reason.

Right. His question. That was what started this. So caught in his own euphoria, he had almost forgotten. But it was an important question. One he couldn’t proceed in good conscience without knowing the answer to.

“Why did you leave...why did you leave him?”

Virgil stared at him. He didn’t open his mouth, not a word escaped his lips. But his chest began to rise and fall much faster than it had.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll tell you. But you can’t tell anyone, understand? No one!” he snapped.

“Virgil, are you okay?”

“Shut up or I’m not gonna be able to get this out!”

Roman’s hands shot up.

Virgil looked straight ahead and took a good deep breath. He held it for a moment before releasing slowly. Then again. And once more.

“Okay.” He sounded much more put together but he was still shaking. His gaze returned to Roman. “Okay. So, you wouldn’t know this, but Janus has these advisors, terrifying, opportunistic bastards who are really good at what they do...Well, they never liked me. Which was fine, they didn’t have to. I didn’t really interact with them much. But, they _really_ didn’t like me. They thought I was standing in Janus’s way.” His eyes were starting to become glassy. “That I was the problem. So they— they decided I had to die.

His voice quieted to a whisper. “They tried to kill me.”

Roman sat there in stunned silence, unable to speak, or offer up any thought. No words would come to him. He was left only with his dismay.

Virgil hid his eyes behind his hand. “Sun above, I thought I would never go through that again.” He shook his head.

It was as if the skeleton key had just been slipped into the lock, and all the tumblers clicked into place. Suddenly, everything made sense. Virgil’s paranoid caution, his self imposed exile in his room, his reluctance to speak about his past. It was all clear.

And that was when the shock was shattered and Roman grew angry. No one could do that to Virgil. No one could hurt him like that. He wasn’t going to let them.

Virgil wiped his eyes. “I ran. I got away. I didn’t even realize how far I was until...until I was too far to go back. And they were right...I do stand in his way. Janus is better off without me.”

Roman reached forward and grabbed Virgil’s hand. “I swear, I will hurt them for you. They don’t get to get away with what they did to you.”

Virgil looked down at Roman’s hand, then back up. “Even Remus?”

Roman’s eyes widened.

“He was the one who was gonna do it.”

Roman’s grip on Virgil’s hand was so tight his hand turned white. His breathing got heavy and he finally snapped. “Fuck!”

Of course. Of course his brother had done that. Of course. What else could he expect from Remus? Every promise he had ever made their mother flew out the window.

“I’m going to kill him,” he said, his tone was dark and low. There could be no doubt. He meant it. There was no way he was going to let his brother get away with that.

“Don’t,” Virgil said. He grabbed the hand Roman held.

“They can’t do that to you. He can’t do that to you.”

“They already did.” Virgil sighed. “It’s over.”

“That can’t go unpunished.”

“It won’t, okay?” Virgil looked down at the ground and shook his head. “When Thomas gets back, I’ll let him know and he’ll handle it. _You_ don’t need to do anything. Besides…” He ran his fingers over Roman’s hand. “I can’t stand murder.”

Much as the anger still coursed through his veins, boiling his blood, Roman had to step back from his righteous fury. If Virgil didn’t want him to, then he would honor that wish. But he couldn’t just sit around and do nothing. For all that Virgil meant to him, he had to do something to fix the horrible wrong that was done. He turned his attention to the hand he held and Virgil held his. He lifted the hand up and gripped it hard.

“I swear, then, that I will keep you safe, from anyone and everyone who would harm you.”

Virgil’s eyes were sad. “...Don’t promise that.”

“Virgil, I _mean_ it.” His heart was pounding, shaking his entire body. Roman swallowed. “Virgil, I have to tell you...I—”

Virgil’s eyes widened and he turned away freeing one hand from Roman’s grip as he pointed at the sky. “Look! A shooting star! _Someone’s new chance at life has come, so say a little prayer for them_ ,” Virgil chanted the old children’s rhyme and lowered his head for a prayer.

Roman said no prayer, he couldn’t let himself get distracted or he could chicken out. He stayed quiet for a moment to allow Virgil his prayer.

“Virgil, you—”

“Patton always made us say the rhyme.” Virgil gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Even if we thought we were too old for it. But you know how Patton is. He’s made of sunshine.”

“Yeah, Virgil, I- I’ve been—”

“You know, I’ve only seen a shooting star on this hill. I mean I’ve probably seen one in other places but I just don’t remember it.”

“Uh-huh, listen, Virgil—”

“Roman.” Virgil turned back to look at him. “You notice how I keep interrupting you? It’s cause I know what you’re gonna say.”

“Oh.” Every ounce of hope drained from Roman. “You do?”

“And look, I only just got out of the only relationship I’ve ever been in. The last time I was single I was two.” His sentences all ran together without stopping for a breath in between. “So, I know it’s a bad idea to rush into something new. Because that’s just what’s best and I know I— I don’t think it’s smart. And, and—”

Virgil sighed. “Are you just gonna let me keep rambling or are you gonna kiss me already?”

Roman was pretty sure he got whiplash. That was not a turn he anticipated that lecture taking. He couldn’t say he was unhappy with it. But, boy, was he not expecting that.

“What? Oh, okay, yeah. If that’s what you want.”

Virgil rolled his eyes with a smile. “I said it was a bad idea. I didn’t say I didn’t _want_ to.”

He leaned closer. Roman swallowed hard as he leaned in as well. So many fears were running through his mind. Because this was it. This was going to be his first kiss and he wasn’t ever going to get another chance at that. What if it was terrible? What if he was the reason it was terrible? What if this made Virgil hate him?

Virgil closed his eyes, and Roman only inch closer little by little. Their noses touched and he could feel the warmth of his breath. He had never been so close to Virgil before, he had never been so close to anymore before. Roman tilted his head to the side, only slightly. And with every bit of courage he had, his lips pressed against Virgil’s.

Roman’s heart sang a song he had never heard before. His eyes were wide open, he was almost breathless from the simplest touch. Virgil’s lips were chapped and a little bit cold, yet, Roman had found his celestial paradise. No sensation came close to this. He was flying through the stars. And he felt Virgil relax into his touch, only emboldening him. Roman shut his eyes and allowed himself to melt. He wrapped an arm around Virgil, pulling him in even closer and Virgil’s arms were on him. There were no other people in the world, just the two of them. There was not a fairytale in the world that could have prepared him for the magic he had in that moment.

Their lips parted, but they stayed, foreheads pressed against each other. Roman opened his eyes just to check he wasn’t dreaming. But he wasn’t. Virgil was there, the most handsome man in the world was in his arms smiling back at him. Roman leaned back and pushed a stray hair out of Virgil’s face, letting his hand linger.

“Amazing,” he whispered. And he knew that didn’t do what he was feeling justice but there were no words that could explain it.

Virgil opened his eyes and untangled himself from Roman. There was a gentle smile on his face. He didn’t say anything but the dark blush on his face spoke for him.

“...So, what happens now?” Roman asked.

“We should probably get back inside before it gets too late.”

“Yeah, you’re right...But I meant, what happens _now_?”

Virgil stood up but Roman stayed, looked up at him with a halo of stars around his head. “Well, I’ll be honest. You’re not the best at kissing. So we have to try and fix that. Together?”

Roman blushed and he stood. He took Virgil’s hand in his. “Together.”

This was it. This was the greatest moment of his life.


	8. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

**28/10/29 The Twenty-Eighth Day of the Tenth Month of the Twenty-Ninth Year of the Reign of King Thomas**

The door to Patton’s room was not usually under assault late at night. Generally, no one disturbed the prince once he went to bed. However, on this particular night, it was like there was a flock of woodpeckers drilling into the door. Roman was practically vibrating; he was so excited as he knocked. It didn’t matter that he knew he was waking up at least one person, he could not wait till morning.

The door finally slammed open. Logan was standing in the doorframe looking as disheveled as he could. Behind him, Roman could just see Patton sitting up in bed and feeling around a nightstand for a pair of glasses.

“ **_WHAT?_ ** ” Logan fumed.

Roman took a step back but his excitement could not be dampened by an angry academic. “I need to talk to you two.”

“Could this not wait until morning?” Logan asked.

Patton found a pair of glasses and waved at Roman.

“No, I had to share this with my best friends in the world.” Roman put his hands together and bounced.

Logan sighed, he was not a morning person.

“Come on in, Roman,” Patton called.

Roman walked over to the prince’s four-poster bed and pulled up a chair next to it. Logan shut the door.

“So what is it?” Patton asked. He took off the glasses and cleaned them on his shirt.

It was like there were fireworks going off in Roman’s chest as all the elation made its way to the surface. “I just had my first kiss!”

Patton’s jaw dropped and he shrieked. He reached forward. “Roman, I’m so happy for you!” He failed to grab Roman’s hand. “And I still can’t see you.”

Roman took Patton’s hand. He smiled. “It’s like the sun is shining down on me even now. I can’t stop grinning.”

“Congratulations. Logan mentioned to me that you had a crush on someone. Why didn’t you tell me?” He took the glasses off again to clean them. “Wait. These aren’t mine.”

Logan came over to the bed and took off the pair he was wearing. “I was wondering why everything was somewhat blurry.”

“I wanted to surprise you, Patton. Should have known Professor Tattletale would have let you know.”

Logan glared at him from behind the correct glasses this time. “Well, yes, congratulations. Have a good night.”

He returned to his side of the bed.

“Logan, we can’t go back to bed.”

“For what reason? Sleep is very important to a healthy life.” He was getting back under the blankets.

Patton shook his head and smiled before looking back to Roman. “Roman, who is it? Logan wouldn’t tell me.”

“Had I known, I would have told you,” said a pile of blankets with hair sticking out the top.

“And that’s why I didn’t tell him.”

“Do I know them?” Patton asked.

Roman nodded. “It’s Virgil.”

All the color drained out of Patton’s giddy face. Logan sat up and looked over at them.

“V-Virgil?” Patton asked. ‘Virgil? Like, Virgil Stormbound?”

Roman leaned back in his chair and his hand absentmindedly brushed his lips. Virgil’s image came to the front of his mind. “I know, we didn’t always get along but we’ve really connected and...He took me to your stargazing hill, tonight.”

“You—Really?” Patton’s voice was wavering.

Roman looked back over at his friend, finally taking notice of the clear discomfort on Patton’s face. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“Oh, I’m happy for  _ you _ . But, Roman, he’s engaged...to my brother. I’m just...”

Roman hid his anger at the mention of the other prince. His brain traveled through what had happened to Virgil.

“...He didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Tell him what?” Logan piped up.

“He’s not engaged to him anymore.” Roman’s voice was gentle but firm.

Patton’s wide eyes told a story in and of themselves. “...Oh...No, he didn’t mention that...I-” Patton started to get up. “I think I should go talk to him, I’m sure he’s still awake. I-I need to sort this out.”

“Patton.” Roman grabbed a hold of the prince before he could get out of bed. He bit his lip thinking of how best to say this. Virgil had made him promise he would tell  _ no one _ but this was Patton. Did Patton really count? “...Did he tell you why he’s here?”

“Did he?” Logan leaned into this conversation.

Patton’s eyes cast down. “Did he tell you?”

Roman nodded.

The prince sighed. “He told me the day he arrived.”

“Then you know why he’s not going back to that relegated royal.”

Patton gripped his sides. He turned his head away from his friends. “...I know...It’s just—” He took a deep breath. “I just want everyone to be happy. Including Janus.” A pained smile came to Patton’s face. “I  _ am _ happy for you, Roman. And for Virgil. You’re two of the most important people in my life. But so is Janus. And there are only six months left on his banishment, he’ll be here soon…”

The conflict in him was clear. Family was important to Patton, it always had been. And family meant more than just blood. Roman could sympathize with what Patton had to be feeling knowing two members of his family were happy at the cost of another one, but he just couldn’t conjure any pity for the snake who caused this. He had his chance to be there for Virgil, and he wasn’t. Janus’s time with Virgil was over and everyone was just going to have to accept it.

“Patton…” Roman began but realized he had nothing else to say. Patton was probably just going to need a little time to get used to the idea of him and Virgil.

Him and Virgil. Stars, it was still a beautiful thought.

Patton stood up leaning on the nightstand. “I should go talk to him. Could you pass me my cane?”

Roman reached over and grabbed it. “You sure? It is late.”

“I’m sure.” He turned around to his partner. “I’ll be back in an hour max.”

Logan sighed. “It seems I will be lacking in sleep tonight.”

“You don’t have to wait for me.”

“I know. But I will.”

Roman hid his eye roll. Logan was only a softie when it came to Patton but, boy, was he a softie.

Patton smiled and headed over towards the door. Roman stood up and accompanied him.

“I should probably get to my room.”

Patton looked at him gently. “Okay. Good night.”

“Night.”

“And Roman…Congratulations. We can talk more about it tomorrow. Okay?”

Roman nodded. “Okay.”

He headed out and to his door. It had been a long night, and he was tired. But there was no way he would be able to sleep.

* * *

**29/10/29 The Twenty-Ninth Day of the Tenth Month of the Twenty-Nineth Year of The Reign of King Thomas**

It was a beautifully sunny autumn morning. Not a single cloud dared to try and block the sun’s radiance. If not for a deep chill foretelling the coming winter, it would have been the perfect day. Roman was standing in the king’s study, blissfully in his own world. Neither the wind rattling the windows nor the royal advisors dipping in and out the room sharing information with the prince could break him free of his dreams.

With every moment his hands were free, they wandered back up to his lips as if he could try and capture what it had felt like to have Virgil’s lips on his. The phantom feeling of Virgil’s cold skin still danced across his own and he longed for nothing more than to hold him again and take away some of that chill.

Roman took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. He tried to remember every single word Virgil told him last night, tried to replay the entire scene out. Yet, the part that stayed in his head and sang like the choirs of the faithful was one word: together. He and Virgil were together even if they were apart.

“It’s nice to see you smiling so much,” Patton’s voice cut through the memories.

Roman turned his head to look at his friend who leaned forward on the desk, very clearly not reading whatever briefing was laid out before him.

“Am I that obvious?”

Patton nodded.

Roman chuckled. “It’s just Virgil. He’s nothing like the person I thought I’d want, but he’s amazing.”

“I know. Don’t forget, we’ve known each other our entire lives.” Patton’s eyes lowered a bit and his smile faded, but he tried to perk back up again. “I’m happy he’s happy. He really likes you.”

A small darkening blush came to Roman’s cheeks. “He’s so wonderful. Weird but wonderful.”

“I know. Boy, I have so many childhood stories I could tell you.”

Roman looked around the room to see no one else. “We seem to have time.”

“I really should read these briefings but...one story wouldn’t hurt.”

Roman adjusted his chair to pay attention better.

“When Virgil was little, he was scared of unicorns.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Patton said, “he would have nightmares about unicorns.”

“Why? Unicorns are noble beasts of legend. Always coming to the aid of a virgin in need of help.”

“Roman needs help with something?” Logan said as he entered the study.

Roman spun around. “Could you go one day without calling me out for being a virgin!?”

Logan shrugged his shoulders. “I went a week.” His tone was innocent, the man was not.

“Logan, be nice,” Patton said.

He rolled his eyes but acquiesced to his boyfriend’s request. “Regardless, patronizing Roman is not the reason I came here.”

“Could have fooled me,” Roman grumbled.

Logan looked down at the notes he had in front of him and then back to the desk. “Patton, have you read your briefings yet?”

Patton went quiet. “...no.”

“Please do so, promptly, one of those was marked urgent.”

“It was? Oh, I didn’t see that.” Patton pushed his glasses back into place and leaned down to read.

Roman turned his attention to Logan. “So, you look more put together than the last time I saw you.”

“That hardly seems surprising since at that time it was past my usual hour of respite.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “‘ _ Hour of respite _ ’ just call it your bedtime.”

“I don’t have a bedtime. I’m not a child.”

Roman’s friends were weird.

“You know,” he said, “if you sleep at your own house, I can’t just barge in.”

“I weighed the cost-benefit of where I choose to sleep. My decision to stay here is the logical one.”

“Yeah, sure,” Roman sassed. “Here. Pros: boyfriend. Cons: Roman. Home. Pros: No Roman. Cons: No boyfriend. Pure logic right there.”

“There was more to my decision than just Patton and yourself.”

Roman scoffed.

“Travel time, for example. I do not commute to work when I sleep in the building. There is also the matter of my parents.”

He raised an eyebrow. Logan had a relationship with his parents that had produced no complaints thus far. They were both alive, well, happy and proud of their son. “What? Are you fighting with them?”

“No. They just got a dog. And she, apparently, has co-opted my bed as her own.”

“Aww, can’t share with a little dog?”

“This is a hunting dog bred to kill bears. My bed is small, and the two of us are not.”

Roman laughed. Logan was right, he was not small. He was, in fact, over six feet tall and dating a man barely over five feet tall. Patton practically needed a ladder to kiss his lover. Logan just tended to stoop down very far for those kisses.

It occurred to Roman he had not kissed Virgil standing up, and he was significantly taller than him. The idea of looking down into Virgil’s eyes and then tilting up his chin gently made Roman feel weak like he would have fallen over had he been standing. That was something he was going to need to try.

“...no…” Patton’s voice was but a hushed whisper.

Roman turned back to the prince. “You okay?”

His eyes were wide, all the color had drained away from him as he held the page he was reading in an iron grip. “No, no, no.”

“Patton?” Logan asked.

He slammed down the page. “Roman, can you go get Virgil?”

Roman had no objections to going to see the man he was with but this didn’t seem good. Patton’s breaths were heavy and there was so much genuine fear in his eyes. Something Roman rarely saw.

“Sure, Patton. But what’s wrong?”

“I need to talk to him,” he said. “Logan, can you read this? I was reading fast. Maybe I made a mistake, misunderstood. You’re better at this than me.”

Logan and Roman exchanged the same worried look. This was not normal and they were both well aware of that. Logan nodded at him and headed over behind the desk to look over Patton’s shoulder. Roman arose and went to the door. 

When he exited the study he was left with a strong feeling of deja vu. It was a lot like the last time Patton had sent him from the study to Virgil’s room. Except this time, he wouldn’t be afraid to see him.

Partially because Patton seemed so worried, and partially because he really wanted to see Virgil, Roman ran through the corridors. He passed by the portrait of the princes without so much as a glance up at it, and he headed to the stairs. One plus to Virgil’s paranoia was it was never a guess where he was going to be.

As he ascended the stairs, Roman’s thoughts changed from ones of worry to thoughts of what he was going to say when he opened the door. Was he going to play it cool? Be calm? Be seductive? Or would his excitement get to him and he would end up a puppy wagging his tail? No matter how it happened, he couldn’t fight the smile on the face as he reached Virgil’s door.

Like a gentleman, he knocked. And then, like Roman, he came in without waiting for an answer.

Virgil was sitting on the floor by his fireplace with a book in his hands. “Well,” he said without even looking up, “the white knight approaches.”

He put the book down and looked over at Roman. The small smirk on his face made Roman’s knees weak. “You’re here early. Like, really early.”

“Patton wanted to talk to you.”

“Mm-hm.” Virgil stood up. “Sure. I’m sure you have no other reasons for coming here.”

He sauntered over. Roman looked down at him. This certainly was his opportunity to be smooth and sexy but he was sadly unable to do so. The only thoughts passing through his head were the words “he’s beautiful,” over and over.

Virgil got up on his toes and placed a kiss on Roman’s cheek. It was gentle. It was soft. And it was heavenly. Roman leaned down and wrapped his arms around Virgil. Hands brushed against his expensive clothes, pulling him in closer into an embrace. His lips danced against Virgil’s cheek.

“Of course I also wanted to see you.”

Virgil smiled and gently pushed Roman off of him. “Alright, sweetie, that’s enough. I have a reputation to keep,” he teased.

Roman pouted.

“What did Patton want to see me for?”

He stiffened up. What was it again? To Roman, Virgil was a memory eraser. He was having all sorts of trouble conjuring up old thoughts.

“He didn’t say,” he said, without any sort of confidence in the truth of that statement.

“Well, come on. Let’s go.”

They headed out into the hallway and Roman led the way towards the king’s study.

“So,” Virgil said, “Patton came to my room last night.”

“I know.”

“You didn’t even wait an hour before telling him.”

“Was I supposed to?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Nevermind. Pat and I talked for a good two hours.”

“About?”

“You. Me. You and me. Us.”

Roman was kinda glad Virgil didn’t mention the  _ other _ party in that relationship, but he had no doubts that Patton and Virgil talked about him.

“How did he take it?” Roman asked.

“He came around.” Virgil walked a step ahead of Roman and turned back to look at him. “I mean, look at you. You’re practically a knight-in-shining-armor.”

His cheeks got remarkably warm. That was probably the best compliment he’d ever received. Sure, Virgil was teasing him but still. He wanted nothing more than to be that knight. Minus the armor of course. He had worn plate armor exactly once and it had sucked. He was a speed fighter and you cannot be fast wearing a good fifty pounds of metal. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone he’d ever fought could ever hit him. Except Remus, of course.

Still, a knight in shining armor was the dream.

“You should see me in armor,” Roman laughed. Only then, did he realize how cool and sexy that probably sounded.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, I think I’d prefer you out of armor.”

Roman caught on fire.

Virgil’s eyes widened and he blushed too. “I meant, like, as you are.”

“Mm-hm,” Roman squeaked, turning his head down to hide some of the blush. It seemed as though the awkwardness was not magically over after the first kiss. Yet another thing fairytales had failed to prepare him for.

They arrived at the doors of the study. Roman opened it and held it for Virgil, he was a gentleman after all.

“Thanks.”

They both entered with a lot more redness than they usually had. Just looking like a goofy lovestruck pair, which while not untrue was not the impression Roman wanted to give Patton and Logan’s first look at the two of them  _ together _ .

Fortunately, or maybe, unfortunately, the grim looks on the faces of his friends revealed that they didn’t really mind. Logan stood behind the desk leaning over it at Patton’s side. While he always looked somewhat serious, not a single hint of a smile appeared on his face. Patton as well, his brows were furrowed and he appeared to be breathing heavy. Not good signs.

“What’s with you two? You look like a witch just stole your children, and you’re gonna have to sell the farm to pay an adventuring mercenary to get them back.”

Virgil turned to him looking positively perplexed.

Roman shrugged. “Never read that fairytale, did you?”

He shook his head and turned his attention back to the other two. “Patton? You good?”

“I—Oh, geez,” Patton said. He was clearly searching for words as he looked around. “Ummm...How do I say this?” He buried his eyes in his hands and groaned. After a moment, Patton took a deep breath and looked Virgil in the eye. “It’s Janus.”

“What happened? Is he okay?” Virgil practically jumped forward.

“He’s okay, he’s okay. It’s just...oh, I wish Dad were here.” Patton sighed. “Janus is coming here.”

Virgil’s eyes widened, he could have been knocked over with a feather. Roman was not faring much better. Janus was coming? He couldn’t do that. A knot began twisting Roman’s stomach. This couldn’t be good news for him. This had to be some sort of mistake.

“What?” Roman regained the ability to speak first. “He can’t do that. He’s got, like, a year before he can come back.”

“Six months,” Logan corrected. “And while that is true, the duty of enforcing that falls on King Thomas. Since he is abroad, Patton would be tasked with doing so.”

“So? Do it. He can’t just turn up here uninvited. You’re a prince with power and all that. He’s just a royal reject.”

Roman failed to notice Virgil turn his gaze down at him.

“Roman,” Patton pleaded.

He knew his words were harsh. He had never spoken ill of Patton’s brother to his face before but he wasn’t about to apologize for that. The idea of Janus showing up at the palace was lunacy. No one wanted him there. Thomas didn’t, and certainly,  **_Virgil_ ** didn’t.

“It is infinitely more complicated than you make it sound, Roman,” Logan said. “A rule is much like a threat. If you are unable or unwilling to back it up, people can call your bluff.”

“Well, then we just have to back it up. He’s one guy. I don’t care how magical he is, he’s one man.”

“He has prepared for that contingency.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Roman said irately. Why was everyone acting like this was some sort of disaster? They were all in positions to do something about it. He would stand at the gates by himself, sword in hand, if it came to that. This was not an unfixable problem.

Patton looked down, then turned his eyes to Roman pitifully. “...He’s got an army. And they’ll be here in a week.”

“What?!” Both Roman and Virgil said.

“A fucking army?” Virgil continued. “What is he thinking?! What is he trying to do?!”

“Virgil,” Patton said. “...He’s coming for you.”

Roman turned to Virgil to watch, to see if he was okay. He was frozen, like cold rigor mortis. Not speaking, barely breathing, just unmoving.

There was a sinking feeling in Roman’s chest. Still, he was willing to do whatever he had to for Virgil. Even if it meant facing down a former prince. He could only hope it wouldn’t come to that though.

“How does he think an  _ army _ will help him?” Roman asked. He tried to dismiss it. Maybe if he poked enough holes in the whole situation it would all crumble and they could pretend it never happened.

“He seems to have arrived at the conclusion that Virgil is here against his will,” Logan said.

“But he isn’t.”

“He doesn’t know that.”

“So, we tell him,” Roman said.

“...he…” The sound of Virgil’s voice turned Roman’s head. Virgil was looking down at the ground, biting the nail of his thumb. He pulled the hand away from his mouth and turned his gaze to meet Patton’s eyes. “...He’s really coming here? For me? This isn’t, like, some kind of weird joke?”

“He really is,” Patton said.

Virgil sighed and put his head in his hands.

“Well, when he gets here,” Roman said, charging on ahead, “we clarify the mix-up and send him on his way. If that serpentine scoundrel thinks he can just charge in here and get Virgil back after-”

“Roman,” Virgil snapped.

Roman froze, abruptly turning from his tirade. That sinking feeling in his chest only grew deeper. Was Virgil angry with him? Had he done something wrong?

Virgil slumped a bit. He pushed his hair back with a sigh. “Can I talk to you in private?”

And it was like a thunderstorm opened up over Roman’s heart.

“...Okay,” he said but it was not okay. He knew that tone. He knew those words. No one ever pulled anyone else aside like that for a good reason.

He didn’t say a word more as the two of them left the study. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t fair. Everything had been so good just an hour ago. He had been soaring through the cloud. Now, he didn’t know what to expect.

They entered the adjacent room. It was a small sitting room, never really used for receiving guests. It was more an escape from the endless work of the study. Even still, though the furniture was more comfortable and there was more decor, the room retained the painful silence of the study. A silence that was even more heart wrenching because of the person delivering it.

Stars above, Roman did not want to know what Virgil was going to say. He tried, for one extra moment to live in the instant they kissed, in a time centuries ago yesterday. He was preparing for a goodbye. It terrified him but he was preparing for it. But didn’t make any sense to him. Why would Virgil want to...He just had to trust that his insecurity was getting the better of him.

Virgil sighed and looked at Roman with his dark eyes, his sad dark eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said and a part of Roman died. “I don’t know what to do.”

R oman jumped at the opportunity to plead his case. “Well, if you don’t know, don’t do anything, don’t change anything.”

"I t’s just…” Virgil hesitated. “It was so easy yesterday. Damn it, I was over this. I spent weeks so torn about how I felt about you and  _ him _ .”

A chill ran up Roman’s spine.

" But I got over it. I...I cared about you and accepted that he was better off without me.” Virgil broke eye contact. “...But he disagrees.”

" Virgil,” Roman said. This was getting too close to a goodbye. He had to stop it. Had to say something. “You said there was nothing between you anymore.”

" I was wrong...I was wrong.” His voice trailed off. “I don’t wanna end what I started with you. But—”

That was the word he was most afraid to hear.

" But I need some time.” Virgil sighed. “This news has been a lot.”

R oman stepped forward. He knew the right thing to do was to, of course, accept and give Virgil the time he needed. But he couldn’t just give up. He couldn’t just stand back and watch whatever was going to happen. Virgil needed space and he could respect that. But what kind of hero just stood by and let the villain waltz in?

“Just time? Right? Because…” He grabbed Virgil’s hand. “You are my stars.”

" Don’t say that.” Virgil looked down at the floor.

Roman cradled his hand and interlaced their fingers. “I can give you time. But I can’t change how I feel about you.” He kissed their hands. “And I won’t try to.”

Vi rgil looked up at him. Half of a pained smile graced his lovely face.

" I’ll back off,” Roman said. He wrapped his arms around Virgil, holding him close. “But he’s not the only one who’d cross the entire country for you.”

* * *

**30/10/29 The Thirtieth Day of the Tenth Month of the Twenty-Ninth Year of The Reign of King Thomas**

The exiled prince lounged in a chair in the war tent. His advisors stood around the map they had plotted their course on. It had been a while since they had all been in the same room together what with how busy they had become now that the end of their journey was in sight. Percy perched upon the table with a glass of wine in his hand, as he always did. He appeared to enjoy the warmer weather of the South as he stripped off his furs and was simply wearing regular clothes. Deanna loomed over the others. She too had tossed aside her furs and seemed rather comfortable. The final advisor did not seem as warm as the others. He still wore his heavier clothes, a woolen orange tunic, and he had draped across his shoulders the pelt of a fox. He leaned against the table with his back to the others. Then, across the room, standing in the shadows was Remus, bored out of his mind.

T he planning in the war room had been going on for a solid hour discussing large scale issues, troop movements, spies reports, food supplies, morale. Things that were all very important and very dull and dry even to the advisors.

" Okay, so that’s everything then,” the man in orange said. “We are done with this shit.”

" Uh, no,” Percy said. “We haven’t gone over my apothecary supplies.”

“What do you need?” Janus grumbled. It seemed as though this planning session was never going to end. He already had a headache and the day had just started.

“We need to send someone back north to gather a few reagents for me.”

“Can you not just  _ buy _ them, here?” Deanna said.

Percy turned to her, an incredulous look on his face. “You can’t just  _ buy _ Whispering Death in the South. We’re gonna run out of poison before we ever get to the capital.”

“Maybe you could poison people less.”

“Maybe  _ you _ could mind your own business.”

J anus rolled his eyes. “Cassius.”

T he man in orange turned to him.

" Do you have the agents to spare?”

Cassius sighed. “I guess.”

" Great, then the matter’s closed.” Janus stood up and headed over to the map. “How long till we arrive?”

" A week,” Deanna said. “Give or take a day or two.”

" And they know in the capital?”

"T hey should now,” Percy said.

" Good.”

J anus’s eyes scanned over the map of his father’s entire kingdom. His fingers flitted over the places they had been, the places that were loyal to him, and his hands walked their way down to his old home. It seemed so close now, he almost couldn’t believe it. Almost an entire month on the road and pretty soon he would be home. And he would be with Virgil again. Janus hid the smile that came to him at the thought. There wasn’t too much left to do; it was almost over.

“We should go over a plan,” Cassius said, causing the prince to turn his head.

Janus nodded.

The advisors all looked directly at the map. Deanna pulled up the knife they were using to mark their position.

“Right. So, as soon as they can see us in the capital, they’ll be sending envoys. If we’re lucky one of them might even be the prince.”

“It won’t be,” Janus deadpanned.

“Then we turn them away,” Percy said. “We’ll refuse to talk to anyone but the little prince.”

“So, that’s when negotiations will start,” Cassius said. “We can bargain for a secondary location for a meeting.”

“No,” Janus stated. “We go into the palace.”

The people around the table went quiet. They shared looks among each other, silently pulling lots to decide who would question Janus.

“Uh, your highness,” Percy said. He always began arguments with  _ your highness _ so as not to sound like he was undermining the prince’s authority. It never worked. “The palace is where your brother will be in the best position.”

Janus raised an eyebrow at him. It was not a threat but a dare to push that statement further.

" What Percy means is,” Deanna jumped in. “It’s dangerous. As if things go wrong, getting out won’t be easy.”

J anus nodded but he wasn’t swayed at all. “Are you afraid of a little danger?”

" No, your highness.”

"Good then, myself, you three, of course, Remus, and a small detachment of soldiers just to prove we mean business. That is the group we bring in. I’m sure we'll have  _ no _ trouble. Right?”

Cassius leaned forward. “We need to plan for when something goes wrong.”

Percy scoffed. “Plan? We kill everyone. Come on.”

“What about Sir Roman?” Deanna said. “He’s going to be wherever the prince is. And, if the stories about him are true, he’s going to be a problem.”

Janus turned his gaze behind them to the corner. “Remus, is your brother going to be a problem?”

Remus cackled. “That loser? I’ve been ready to kill him since he was born!”

“Well, unless my ears have stopped working, I don’t think we have a problem,” Janus sassed.

He looked down at the map, his fingers drumming against it. In spite of his dripping confidence, he was scared. They were all right. If things went wrong, it would be a small group of them against the entire capital. But they had to do it.  _ He _ had to do it. He needed Virgil to be safe again, with him. And he couldn’t let anyone stand in the way of that.

“I want to make one thing perfectly clear,” he said. The advisors turned their attention to him. Janus lifted his gaze to glare at them, eyes burning. “No one is to move against  _ anyone _ unless  **_I_ ** say so.”

He looked over at Remus to see if the message was received to find his knight grinning at him.

Janus turned back to the table. “This is not a coupe, this is a rescue mission. And we will lose a lot of sympathy with the public if it turns into a coupe.” His eyes scanned the city that was always his home. “But if it comes down to it. I will be the one who kills Patton.”

“Should we intervene if he runs?”

“He won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild Orange Side appears!


End file.
